Just Ducky, or, A Devil of a Time
by Once Upon a Whim
Summary: An impromptu trip in late season 3 makes Lorelai reconsider her opinion of a certain sport. And a certain person. Written for the Summer Ficathon for dayzy27.
1. Pregame Warmup

**Just Duck-y (or, A Devil of a Time)**

_**(In no way related to 'Just Duckie' by River Run, which was also written for this ficathon – just a bizarre coincidence)**_

**Because apparently my mind goes to absolutely ridiculous places when prompted in ficathons. And because it's so much fun to torture Lorelai by turning her into skittish-jumpy-Lorelai. Thanks to _llano_ for the beta – two sets of overworked brain cells are better than one.**

**Takes place after episode 321. Chapter 1 is June 4th, 2003, if you want to get really specific.**

**One minor, but crucial, tweak to the back story, which will become obvious toward the end.**

**Ficathon prompt/requests will appear at the end of the last chapter.**

Focused intently on the laptop screen in front of her, Lorelai wondered how on earth she could be expected to make such a weighty decision just like that. So many choices… She was so wrapped up in her conundrum that she didn't even notice Luke entering the diner. She furrowed her brow, gnawing anxiously on her lower lip as Luke surveyed the scene from behind her.

A few seconds later, it was Luke's exasperated "What the hell is this?" that finally drew her out of her contemplative state.

She looked up, unfazed as Luke gestured in annoyance to the array of wires and adapters she'd strung across the counter in order to plug in her computer. "I need a name," she explained cryptically, going right back to staring at her screen

Still glowering in the direction of the hazardously-placed wires, Luke gruffly stated the obvious as he rounded the counter. "You have a name."

"I need a different name," Lorelai replied, adding no further explanation as she refocused on the laptop's screen.

"George?" Luke suggested wryly, ducking under her wires to clear some empty plates from the other end of the counter.

Lorelai rolled her eyes at Luke's classically weak attempt at humor before she clarified, "No, an e-bay name."

Luke's eyebrows shot up skeptically as he handed the plates over to Caesar. "E-bay?" he asked.

"Only the world's premier online auction site," Lorelai grinned, her smile fading into a frown as the website informed her that 'StarbucksSlut' was already taken.

Luke shook his head at Lorelai's confirmation. He managed to bite his tongue for a whole ten seconds before launching into a typical tirade, "Why the hell do people insist on buying junk they've never even seen from people that could be drug dealers, identity thieves, God knows what? It's like one of those stupid garage sales, but you don't even get to see the crap before you buy it. What the hell happened to garage sales? Why the hell would you want to buy something on there?"

Lorelai smirked, having anticipated just such a reaction, "I'm not buying, I'm selling."

"No one wants your junk," Luke chastised, wiping up the counter around her.

"It's not junk," Lorelai protested, "I have it on good authority that somewhere out there, probably in a remote town in Canada, there is some poor soul who actually likes hockey."

Luke immediately stopped the wiping. Eyeing Lorelai quizzically, he asked with more than a touch of doubt in his voice, "Hockey?"

"Yes, hockey," Lorelai nodded, not paying all that much attention to Luke's sudden interest – she was still focused intently on inventing her e-bay pseudonym. JuanValdezWhore? "The sport on ice that's not figure skating, bobsled, curling, or shoveling my driveway," she continued distractedly, all the while trying out various coffee-oriented names on the website. "There's skates involved. And sticks, I think. I actually don't know."

Luke glowered, "I know what hockey is."

"Then why the questions, Trebek?" Lorelai shot back, all the while wondering incredulously how on earth 'SqueegieBeckenheim' could already be in use on e-bay.

Abandoning his job of cleaning the counter, Luke circled around to the stool next to Lorelai. Peering over her shoulder, he wondered aloud, "I'm just trying to figure out what in the hell you could have to sell that is in any way related to hockey?"

"Tickets," Lorelai replied, flashing said product in front of his face without her gaze ever departing her screen.

"You have hockey tickets?" Luke scoffed in disbelief.

"No," Lorelai huffed, finally giving up on the task at hand and facing Luke, "I thought I'd give that scam artist stuff you were ranting about a try. See what kind of suckers are out there. Yes, I have hockey tickets." She waved them around again for emphasis.

"How did you get hockey tickets?" Luke demanded, twisting his face in confusion, "And tickets for what? It's June, there's no hockey in June."

With a sigh, Lorelai shrugged. "Don't ask," she lamented, pausing to gulp down some coffee for creative inspiration. "For some reason, my father got them from some corporate insurance guy who insures the hockeying people and the stadiums where all the hockeying transpires."

"Arenas," Luke corrected.

Blank stare from Lorelai: "Huh?"

"Forget it," was Luke's reaction.

"Whatever… seems like a bad move to me, don't hockey people always knock teeth out, or something disgusting and Neanderthal like that?" She didn't even pause for any sort of response from Luke before continuing with her ticket acquisition tale. "I don't know, but Dad got them somehow, thought it would be brilliant to give them to Rory, because apparently he's never met her and doesn't know that she knows less about hockey than me, not to mention the fact that she's had her nose in books 24/7 for the past three weeks. I guess he thought she might have friends who'd want them. But she's too busy to even find out if anyone wants them. So now I have them, and I have to get rid of them. I was seriously tempted to just toss the stupid things, but this way I get some cash. Thus the e-bay."

As punctuation, she turned back to her computer. Only as an afterthought did she whirl back around with a grin, "And hey, did you know that the Mighty Ducks are an actual team? I swear, someone is trying to mess with me, because the last time I checked, they were only real in those cheesy Disney movies. Seriously cheesy. But Emilio? Dreamy as ever." She fluttered her eyelashes melodramatically, clasping her hands together in front of her chest in adoration for her favorite Brat Pack member.

As soon as she finished speaking, Luke forced out a wide-eyed, spluttered, "You have Mighty Ducks tickets?"

"Yeah, seriously!" Lorelai gestured wildly, not quite catching the gravity with which Luke had spoken his previous question. "What's with the blurring of reality and movies? Next they're gonna tell me that if I just click the heels of my red sparkly shoes together, I can just teleport myself around everywhere." She paused, taking in Luke's non-reaction, "They are real, right?" she inquired skeptically.

Luke ignored her question. "That the finals," he stammered in disbelief, "Those are Stanley Cup finals tickets?"

Finally aware of the odd timbre his voice had taken on, Lorelai eyed Luke suspiciously, unsure of what could have warranted such a reaction from the normally stoic coffee provider. "Yeah, that's what's on the tickets," she confirmed warily. And frowning, she wrinkled her nose, bewildered, "Who the hell is Stanley?"

Again, Luke failed to register Lorelai's question. "You have Stanley Cup finals tickets?" he demanded, "Devils/Ducks?"

"That's what they say…" Lorelai squinted at Luke in confusion, drawing her words out. Finally, the proverbial light bulb lit up and realization washed over her face. "Do you want them?"

"What?" Luke asked shakily, looking like he was still processing the fact that the tickets were in Lorelai's possession, never mind the fact that she was offering them to him.

Lorelai herself could barely process what was going on – she'd witnessed Luke get emotional in an angry sense after last year's car crashing incident, pensive at his uncle's funeral, but never ever had she seen him resemble a giddy, dumbstruck, late 90's teeny-bopper at a Backstreet Boys concert. She could barely stifle the giggles as she rephrased to Luke, "Well, I thought with the hat and the… thing…" she gestured vaguely in the direction of the town's baseball field, "that you were a baseball guy. Or I would have just given them to you."

"I had a hockey phase," Luke admitted.

Lorelai shrugged. One less thing for her to deal with if he wanted them. She slid the pair of tickets across the counter in Luke's direction, "Take 'em then. Saves me from the evil, evil task of picking an ebay name," she groaned, lifting an elbow in the direction of her computer. "It's hard," she insisted.

Luke didn't even pick up the tickets right away, appearing quite dubious about Lorelai's offer. "Are you sure?" he hesitated, "I'll pay…" When he finally picked up the tickets, his next word was spoken much more harshly, "Lorelai."

Lorelai's head jerked back up from where she was closing the e-bay window on her screen, "Huh?"

"These are for a game in California," Luke informed her sternly.

For the first time in the course of the conversation, it was Lorelai's jaw that dropped. "It said New Jersey," she gasped in confusion, snatching the tickets back from Luke to confirm.

"That's the other team," Luke explained with a roll of his eyes. "The game is in Anaheim."

Lorelai's shoulders dropped visibly in defeat. "Oh," she pouted, forcing her lower lip out. "Sorry. Back to ebaying…" As she began the sign-in process on the website once again, she muttered to herself, "California… What in the hell was my father thinking?"

She was just beginning to ponder a name yet again when she felt Luke's hand rest tentatively on her arm.

He cleared his throat, and awkwardly spoke up, "Hey."

Lorelai looked up, surprised, "What?"

Faltering only slightly, Luke said with a sheepish shrug, "We could go."

Lorelai shook her head, as if she hadn't quite heard Luke correctly. Which she really didn't think she had. "You could go?" She squeaked, "To California?" What in the hell had spurred him to even think about that? He may as well have said it in Japanese for as much sense the previous statement had made, given who it was coming from. "Nicole's that big of a hockey fan that you're going to schlep across the country for one game?" She shuddered inwardly as she tried to reconcile the mental picture of Nicole having anything to do with big, bad, violent hockey, "Never pictured her as a hockey girl."

Taking a deep breath, Luke wrung his hands together in an act of nervousness that was too subtle for Lorelai to notice. "We," he clarified, "_We_…" Luke repeated, waving his hand at the space between his stool and Lorelai's.

Lorelai barely missed a beat before she burst out laughing at the absurdity of what Luke had said. "You think _I'm_ going?" she exclaimed.

Luke reddened slightly in the face at her outburst, but he quickly tried to save face by rationalizing, "I can't take both tickets, you know how much those are probably worth? The game's in three days. And it's game 6. Someone could win at that point."

Lorelai regarded Luke carefully; perhaps she hadn't considered the situation properly. Financially speaking… Though it wasn't as if it mattered now that she'd offered and if Luke really did want the tickets. "Well judging by that, maybe I _should_ sell them…" she teased. "Then whoo-hoo, sephora-dot-com here I come, baby."

Luke, taking her seriously, pushed the tickets across the counter in her direction, "Here."

"No, no, no, no," Lorelai grinned, shoving the tickets back at him. "As much as I can't picture you dropping everything and taking off for California for a completely frivolous trip, I also would have never pictured you looking this excited about a freakin' hockey ticket. Just keep them." Then she smirked, adding "But just don't think you'll ever get away with lecturing me about the coffee drinking anymore. You owe me."

"I am not taking them both," Luke affirmed with a vigorous shake of his head. "You are using one." Separating the two tickets, he leaned over and tucked one between the keys of Lorelai's laptop.

"Right," Lorelai laughed, plucking the ticket from her keyboard, "Because I'm so much more of a hockey girl than Nicole is. If you're gonna be dragging one of the least sports-oriented people in Connecticut across three time zones for a game, you might as well make it your girlfriend."

"Would you stop with Nicole?" Luke snapped.

Taken aback slightly, a surprised expression crossed Lorelai's face. She was just about to mutter an obligatory apology – though what exactly for, she wasn't sure – when Luke, his own expression hesitant as if he didn't know how to react to his own words, spoke up again. "I asked you," he explained flatly, the edge gone from his voice.

Lorelai got the sense that that wasn't all he'd been toying with saying, but she didn't press the issue. For one thing, it seemed far more important to get the utterly ridiculous notion of her going on a cross-country jaunt for a hockey game out of Luke's head. "Luke, I don't have the money anyway," she brushed him off casually. "As you know, since the fire the Inn is rather shaky financially, not to mention probably structurally too. And we can't forget the bazillion dollars I forked over for plane tickets to Europe for me and Rory." Mimicking his keyboard gesture, she animatedly slipped the ticket into the front pocket of his flannel shirt, patting it for good measure.

Sitting silently, Luke watched Lorelai shut down her computer and begin to pack up her things. After a moment, he pulled the second ticket from his pocket and stared at the pair of them pensively. "Ok, here's the deal," he finally stated. "I'll take both tickets. And since you won't let me pay, you will use one, and I'll pay for the trip."

"What?" Lorelai spun on her stool, gaping at Luke. _What?_

"I'll pay," Luke reiterated firmly. "You said it yourself, with all the fire stuff at the Inn, and Rory's graduation, and the Europe thing – you need a break," he pointed out. "Come to the game."

Lorelai protested immediately, "Luke… It's across the _country_…"

"There will be disgusting junk food in disgusting amounts," Luke goaded her with half a grin.

"Rory has finals," Lorelai countered, though she couldn't help crack a smile in return.

"Finals?" Luke scoffed, "And you actually have a role in that?

Lorelai did have to admit Luke had her on that one. Woefully, she admitted, "She did threaten to beat me into a coma with her math book for talking too much yesterday morning and bothering her when she was in study-mode."

Luke chuckled, "And that's different from normal how?"

"I wasn't bugging her! I asked if she'd had breakfast yet!" Lorelai cried in her own defense. Crossing her arms playfully in front of her chest, she groused, "The 'bothering' criteria are _way_ off during finals."

"So come to the game," Luke repeated, a hint of smugness creeping into his expression.

Lorelai was defeated, she knew it. He had her. She had no excuse, especially if he was going to pay… Which meant she was going to California! Fun! For hockey… But still California! She fought valiantly against the goofy smile threatening on her face as she clarified the last sticking point in the negotiation, "You'll let me have nachos? In all their fake cheesy digustingness?"

Luke grimaced even as he nodded, "Just warn me ahead of time so I don't have to watch."

"I _could_ probably get a last-minute deal from Emily's travel agent…" Lorelai acquiesced, her words reluctantly slow, though her bright eyes betrayed her apparent lack of enthusiasm.

Luke smiled. "Ok then."

"Ok then…" Lorelai echoed with a smile of her own as Luke got up to head back to work. As she finished packing up, she called after Luke into the kitchen, "Hey, what do you wear to hockey?"


	2. First Period

**Just Duck-y (or, A Devil of a Time)**

**_Thanks so much for the reviews so far! And to _llano_ again for the beta._**

**Chapter 2: First Period**

Two days later, after some whirlwind planning and packing on both their parts, as well as some awkward explaining to Rory, Richard, and Emily that yes, she would have to miss Friday dinner to take a weekend trip to California to see a hockey game with Luke – not exactly a conversation any of them had ever thought they'd be having, Luke and Lorelai stumbled tiredly into the hotel room they were sharing in Anaheim.

After which Lorelai immediately dropped her bags in front of Luke in the small foyer , took two and a half steps to the right and promptly collapsed, face-down, on the nearest bed. "Finally…" she sighed, mid-flop, "Mmph. Cincinnati sucks. Cincinnati must die. Evil plane not working for 4 evil hours in evil Cincinnati. Why the hell were we even in Cincinnati?" she wailed into the comforter. "Why couldn't we get delayed somewhere like Paris or Toyko?"

"Because there's nothing remotely resembling either of those places in the 3000 mile space between Hartford and California. And actually, we weren't even in Ohio," Luke pointed out, climbing over Lorelai's abandoned luggage, "It was technically Northern Kentucky."

"Ugh, don't remind me," Lorelai moaned as she rolled over onto her back. "I was never planning on spending that long in Kentucky ever. Isn't that where the Beverly-Hillbilly-who-marry-their-cousins-types come from?"

Luke sat himself down on the other bed and flipped on the TV as he addressed Lorelai's usual lack of political correctness, "I'm pretty sure there are normal people in the state."

"I guess," she replied, craning her neck to see the TV. "They do make good chicken."

With a grimace at both the lack of respectable programming and the mention of fried chicken, Luke turned off the TV. "That stuff's disgusting."

"Really good, yummy, greasy chicken," Lorelai grinned wickedly in Luke's direction, goading him. Grasping her stomach, she flopped back on the bed with a dramatic moan, "Ooh, now I want KFC, we didn't have dinner."

Luke stopped his task of untying his boots and looked up at Lorelai, incredulous, "Do you know how much junk you've eaten today?"

"That was just…" Lorelai paused thoughtfully, searching for a fitting word. "Grazing," she finished triumphantly, "Airport calories don't count."

"Only in your world," Luke muttered in reply.

Lorelai grinned, rolling on to her stomach once more, "Yeah, and?"

"Never mind," Luke brushed her off as he stood and crossed the room to the small desk at the foot of his bed. "There's gotta be a room service menu somewhere," he reasoned over his shoulder in Lorelai's direction as he rifled through the various papers in the top drawer. "That's probably all you're gonna get this late."

There was a big show of waving one arm weakly in Luke's direction, as if to will the menu to her with the mere movement of her fingers. But Lorelai's arm quickly flopped back down as she groaned into the bed, "Mmph, too much effort."

Luke's face broke into an amused smile as he eyed her over his shoulder. "Tired beats hungry?" he teased. "I should wear you out before letting you order at the diner. It'd be easier on your arteries."

Lorelai didn't respond immediately, exhaustion slowing her brain down a little. But a few moments later, muffled giggles could be heard from where her face was buried in the comforter.

Luke waited it out for a minute before demanding curiously, "What?"

"Dirty!" Lorelai snorted.

Looking baffled, Luke asked for clarification, "How?"

"Wear me out…" came Lorelai's giggled response before she lifted her head to waggle her eyebrows impishly. "Dirty."

"Jeez…" Luke groaned. Noting Lorelai's breathing growing deeper and her lack of further movement, he ventured, "You just staying like that? Ever gonna move?"

Lorelai's only response was a sleepy, "Mm-hmm…"

A few hours later, Lorelai blinked sleepily in the darkness. In her bleary daze, the fact that she was in California sharing a hotel room with Luke failed to register in her mind; the only thing she knew what that she had fallen asleep in her jeans and blazer. And that the jeans were just horribly uncomfortable to sleep in, and she really didn't want to wrinkle her cute jacket any more than she probably already had. Closing her eyes and fighting wakefulness, she expertly wriggled out of her jeans. With the jacket off, she finagled her way out of her bra as well, and tossed the whole lot in the direction of what her sleepy brain thought was her closet. Clad only in her underwear and a tank top, she pulled the covers over her and drifted back to sleep.

Another couple of hours later, and Lorelai woke again, this time needing to make a quick excursion to the bathroom. Without a second thought, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and wearily pulled herself to her feet.

Of course, she didn't get all the way up, for not a half-second into the maneuver did her head make forceful contact with the wall. The wall that quickly reminded her that she most definitely was not at home in her own bedroom.

The resounding thud and the soft whimper of pain she let out as she crumpled to the floor were just loud enough to rouse Luke from his slumber across the room.

Peering into the darkness, he couldn't make out Lorelai's form or the source of the noise, so he quickly reached over and turned on one of the bedside lamps. "Lorelai?" he whispered, squinting at what appeared to be only the top of Lorelai's head visible above her bed.

"There's no wall there at home!" Lorelai wailed, clutching her head in pain.

Pulling himself up to a sitting position, Luke reassessed the situation now that he could see a little better. Putting two and two together with Lorelai's wall remark, he asked, concerned, "Are you ok?"

Lorelai sent a withering glare in his direction over the edge of the bed, snapping, "Just ducky. Peachy. Swell."

"You hit the wall?" Luke asked, obviously not quite believing that she was quite that klutzy.

"Sure, gloat about it," Lorelai groused, still on her knees, barely fitting in the small space between the wall and the bed. "At home there's a nice big space and a door and a hall and stairs on that side of the bed," she offered in a weak attempt to save face as she gingerly reached up to the top of her head. She winced, "And ow…" Stupid wall…

"Ok, ok, ok," Luke breathed hurriedly as he deftly maneuvered over to Lorelai. Once in front of her, he offered a hand to help her up off the floor. With a gentle, "Come 'ere," he led her into the bathroom.

Lorelai followed obediently, but not before shooting a glare at the wall, grumbling, "Bad wall."

With the light flipped on, Luke eyed her head with scrutiny, gently demanding, "Where?"

Squinting in the harsh light of the bathroom and running her hand over the crown of her head, Lorelai almost missed Luke's reaction when he realized what she was wearing as sleepwear. Or wasn't wearing, rather. In trying to assess her injury, he'd maneuvered her towards the counter until she had no choice but to back up on to it. In what she suspected was merely practical concern in his search for blood, he'd ended up between her legs. Only when his hand involuntarily fell to her bare thigh, in a location that would have been considered scandalously high were it not for the Florence-Nightingale-inspired routine he as in the middle of. Nevertheless, once it registered what and where he was touching, Luke had yanked his hand back as if he'd been seared by the contact.

Lorelai stifled a giggle – Luke-torture was always fun – as she pointed out the spot on her head that had had the unfortunate contact with the wall, "Here."

In the bumbling awkwardness that followed the inadvertent thigh-touching, Luke was a little rougher than Lorelai's head would have preferred as he rand a thumb over her head. Sucking a rush of air between her clenched teeth, she hissed in pain as she jerked her head away from him, "Hey…"

As he pulled his hand back yet again, Luke muttered, "Yeah, that's a good bump already…" And regarding her, still sitting there in barely more than underwear, quickly exited the small room with a promise of "I'll get ice."

"You don't ha…" Lorelai began to protest, feeling silly for making him go for ice in the middle of the night, never mind the embarrassment that was beginning to set in for having run into the wall in the first place.

But Luke was already halfway out the door with the plastic ice machine bucket from the room, brushing her off, saying "You need ice."

Lorelai sighed, sliding off the counter. Stupid wall. She leaned over the sink toward the mirror, trying to examine the bump on her head. At least it was far enough back into her hair that the bruise wouldn't require too much coverup the next day… Thank God for small favors. Her head still hurt though, she scowled at her reflection. Stupid…

Luke reappeared a few moments later, and presented her with a container of ice and the few plastic bags that had accompanied the container.

"Thanks," Lorelai mumbled sheepishly, the ridiculousness of her situation suddenly overwhelming.

Luke just nodded, his eyes staying fixed on Lorelai's face as he gestured back towards the main room, "I'm gonna…."

"'K," Lorelai agreed, not wanting to keep Luke up any longer unless absolutely necessary.

Only a few steps beyond the bathroom, Luke turned around and stuck his head back in around the doorframe with a smirk, "You can negotiate the wall on your own from now on?"

Not particularly appreciating his attempt at cutesy, Lorelai stuck her tongue out. "I'll manage," she retorted. Except, she quickly realized, she probably wouldn't manage so well. Given her recent track record and her all-around lack of coherence in the moments post-wake-up, odds were she'd just end up smacking her head, or some other body part into the wall again. "Wait, Luke!" she called, clutching the ice as she dashed out of the bathroom after him. There was no way in hell she was getting back into the bed closest the wall…

She caught him just as he was climbing back into bed. "Actually," she began, "I think I'd probably manage a lot better if I was in that bed. Luke froze at her words, eyeing her with a curious gaze, with a touch of panic. "Switch, I mean," Lorelai clarified, flashing her best 'I'm Lorelai and therefore you must give in to whatever I'm demanding' smile. "I think the wall would be less likely to go for a repeat performance if I'm in the bed that's at least 3 feet from it on all sides."

"Fine," Luke sighed, regarding her with exasperation. "Whatever."

"Thank you!" Luke was barely back on his feet before Lorelai plopped herself on to the bed, quickly situating herself amidst all the blankets. Once she was comfortable, she rested the ice on her head. The bag promptly slid off onto the pillow. She put it back. It slid off again. And again… Not in the mood to deal with insolent ice, Lorelai eventually just laid back and stuck the stupid bag anywhere it would stay.

Luke, of course, watching her in mild amusement from across the room, took it upon himself to remark, "You do realize that ice isn't even close to where it should be."

"I can't help it," Lorelai groused from beneath the ice, "I'd have to be a contortionist, or just have an abnormally flat spot on my head, to get it to stay there. It's close enough. Maybe it'll just freeze my entire head, and then the bruised part will be cold too."

Rolling his eyes as he sat on the edge of his bed, Luke pointed out the obvious, "You _could _just hold it there."

"But then my arm will fall asleep," Lorelai whined.

"Jeez," Luke groaned. Most likely in the interest of shutting her up, he pulled himself to his feet, roughly grabbed the ice from her hand and held it awkwardly in place as he leaned over her, "Here."

Lorelai peered up at him warily. "Ok, well now I'm afraid that you're gonna fall asleep standing up," she quipped, "Tip over like some big giant Luke-tree that's getting cut down, land on me, and kill me in my sleep. Wait, that is your plan," she gasped melodramatically. "A-ha! I've figured you out, not gonna work on me," she declared resolutely, squirming her way out from under Luke's looming frame.

Luke's free hand on her arm subdued her movements, and she stilled under his touch. "Would you just stop moving?" Luke implored. He nudged her a bit farther toward the middle of the bed and sat down behind her. With his arm resting just beyond her head on the pillow, he held the ice in place while leaning back against the headboard. "Better?" he inquired sardonically.

Actually rather comfortable curled up on her side with Luke behind her, Lorelai smiled contentedly, "Much."

The next thing Lorelai was aware of was the sticky feeling of warm plastic under her cheek. The dim light that filtered through the room from the lamp on the nightstand was enough for her to make out the bag of ice, now significantly less ice-y, which had somehow made its way under her head from on top of it. Concerned with little more than getting back to sleep, she plucked the bag from her pillow and tossed it across the room.

And with Luke snoring softly behind her, his arm still wrapped protectively around the vicinity of her head, she drifted back to sleep.

**To be continued…**


	3. Second Period

**Many thanks for the reviews! I love that you guys like it so far :)**

**Props to _llano_ for the beta again.**

**Chapter 3: Second Period**

Lorelai awoke again a few hours later, only to find that Luke was no longer next to her, but already up and dressed. Much to her dismay, he informed her that the morning had dawned uncharacteristically rainy for Southern California, which put a damper on the plans Lorelai had made to drag Luke around DisneyLand before heading to the game that night.

She also found that her nocturnal confrontation with the wall had left her with a lingering headache and a rather tender bump that didn't feel so hot when she was fighting to de-tangle her hair in the shower.

The ad-hoc stand-in for the amusement park outing was a trip to a local mall, where Lorelai could indulge in her consumerist fancies and Luke would grin and bear it in return for subjecting Lorelai to hockey later that night.

In the end, Lorelai ended up suffering just as much as Luke in the mall – her less-than-overflowing bank accounts in combination with the dull pounding in her head left her listless and apathetic, not in the mood to do much shopping. When even the promise of lunch in the ostentatious food court failed to pique her interest, Luke steered her back to their hotel room, making a quick stop in the hotel gift shop for Advil and a deck of cards.

Much to her surprise, the afternoon spent with Luke just lounging around their hotel room playing cards, watching random TV, talking, and ordering room service proved to be more enjoyable than most in recent memory. Plus, the Advil and another round of ice for her head seemed to have done the trick such that by the time they were to head out for the game, she was nearly back to 100.

In fact, her penchant for shopping was back with a vengeance once they had made it Arrowhead Pond for the game – the minute she caught a glimpse of the official Mighty Duck memorabilia store in the arena, she was off and running with an excited cry, "Ooh, I need souvenirs!"

Luke groaned, and managed to grip the back of Lorelai's jacket before she got too far away from him. "Not in here, go to the cheap place outside after the game."

"No, I need to wear something during the game!" Lorelai whined. "Look at us, we're the only ones in normal clothes," she pointed out with a pout.

"And I'm staying that way," Luke asserted. Lorelai's bottom lip just got shoved out further.

With a sigh, Luke released her from his grip. "Fine, you do what you want."

So with a gleeful squeal, Lorelai immersed herself in the crowd of shoppers. Luke, of course, opted to remain on the concourse, preferring not to get lost in the sea of gaudy merchandise in the store.

Lorelai eventually found him poking his nose into the main arena watching the pre-game warm-up. She tapped his shoulder to get his attention.

For almost half a second, she could have described Luke's expression as probably relieved to see her and thus not have to stand there anymore. But she was pretty sure the broad, mischievous grin on her face tipped him off to something, for immediately following that relief came a skeptical expression and a very suspicious, "What did you do?"

"Nothing!" she cried, feigning innocence, but quickly lapsing back into her impish smile.

Luke raised an eyebrow, "What?"

Taking a deep breath and bracing herself, Lorelai began a pre-emptive explanation as she reached into the bag she now held, "It's just a hat, you're wearing a hat anyway."

With that, she produced from the bag, with a flourish and a "Ta-da," a Mighty Ducks baseball cap, which she promptly traded for the blue one Luke was already sporting.

Luke didn't even get a chance to protest before the switch was done, "Why do I bother…."

"And look, we match!" Lorelai proclaimed, whipping a duplicate hat from the bag and placing it – backwards, of course – on her own head.

"Super…" Luke rolled his eyes. He followed that up with a slight narrowing of his eyes as he caught the tiniest of winces flash across Lorelai's face as she readjusted her cap. "How's the head?" he inquired, concerned.

Lorelai shrugged, not particularly thrilled at having been reminded of her oh-so graceful wrong-side-of-the-bed awakening. "Ok, I gue..."

She didn't even get to finish, for the concern on Luke's part was quickly replaced by a rather accusing tone as he pointed to a second bag in Lorelai's hand, "What the hell is that?"

"Only the official mascot of my new favorite team," Lorelai grinned broadly, yanking the plush stuffed Duck mascot out of the flimsy plastic bag and displaying it proudly for Luke's appraisal.

"Of course," Luke waved off the toy with a slightly exasperated edge to his voice. Glancing up at the clock in the arena, he turned and once again set off to find their seats.

Dashing after him, Lorelai was not to be deterred. Shoving the stuffed animal in front of Luke, she began her formal introduction, "Luke, meet Doug."

"Doug?" Luke inquired, giving Lorelai a curious sidelong glance.

"Yet another dreamy movie hockey guy," she swooned jokingly. "Second only to Emilio's Gordon, of course."

It was an explanation, which, for Luke, who was obviously not up to snuff on his 'dreamy movie hockey guys,' begged the question, "What hockey movie has a Doug?"

"Only the best hockey movie ever!" Lorelai paused dramatically before solemnly announcing, "The Cutting Edge."

Luke scoffed immediately, "That's not a hockey movie. Two tiny clips of a hockey game will never make a chick flick a hockey movie."

Lorelai's eyes went wide with amusement, "You've seen it!" She cried. "You watch chick flicks! You probably have a copy at home, wedged in between Sleepless in Seattle and Message in a Bottle, don't you?"

Luke just rolled his eyes as Lorelai kept giggling over the thought of Luke studiously timing the amount of hockey in an otherwise 'chick flick.'

She managed to amuse herself with that visual as they walked past a few more sections in search of their seats. A few moments later, however, another thought hit her, "Ooh! Speaking of hockey movies that you probably don't consider hockey movies, I still have never showed my mother Happy Gilmore. I always forget!"

Luke opened his mouth, but hesitated before finally saying, "Ok, call me stupid, and I'll probably regret asking, but why do you feel the need to show your mother that movie?"

Lorelai smirked, but Luke cut in as she was poised to reply.

"Yes, I realize it's your last name, but you also share that with, I don't know, Gary Gilmore, and I don't see you making that your claim to fame," Luke pointed out in anticipation of Lorelai's reasoning.

"Oh man, you totally should have seen Emily during that whole Gary Gilmore thing," Lorelai snickered at the memory. "She was horrified that someone might think we were related or something. Same thing with the movie. I totally want to see her reaction to Adam Sandler in all his low-brow comedy glory sporting the Gilmore name. I think Rory and I actually made a bet when we first saw it," Lorelai paused, her brow furrowed as she tried to recall the terms. "I say she'd demand we change our name then and there, but Rory thinks she'd just have the movie removed from all the video rental places in North America. It could go either way, really…"

Luke didn't reply to the Happy Gilmore babble, but after passing a few more sections of the arena, he turned to Lorelai, offering something he thought she might appreciate, "You know there was a really good hockey player named Doug Gilmour."

"No way!" Lorelai cried gleefully, "I'm a genius! Aren't I Doug?" she posed the question to her new fluffy friend. "A psychic genius. Who knew," she mused with exaggerated wonder.

"It was spelled different," Luke shrugged bashfully, seeming quite pleased with the reaction his tidbit of knowledge had elicited. "But yeah, played until a couple years ago, I think. Mostly with Toronto," he added haltingly in an effort to… well, to say something.

"Look at you all hockey geek," Lorelai laughed, making a show of pinching Luke's cheek. Or at least trying to, as he quickly swatted her hand away. And with mock hurt, she sulked, offended, "Harsh… And here I thought I was the most important Gilmore in your life."

She'd just been joking. A playful jab in the middle of the fun of a good old hockey game. She wasn't prepared for the seriousness of his response, or the intensity of his gaze as he stopped walking and confirmed quietly, "You are."

Lorelai couldn't stop the pink flush she was sure was creeping up her cheeks under the weight of Luke's piercing stare. Where that had come from, she wasn't sure. And why he'd felt the need to clarify that she, one of four Gilmores he'd probably ever come across in his life, if you included her parents at Rory's party a few years back, was the most important. It was just a joke…

She didn't get a chance to ponder much longer. An inadvertent shove from behind as other fans rushed to take their seats jostled them both enough to break the eye-contact and get them moving again. In the process, Luke cleared his throat and added, "And Rory."

Lorelai suspected the mention of Rory was supposed to alleviate some of the – weirdness was the only way she could put it – that had accompanied his previous statement. Not that it did… Fighting the blush that still threatened, she stumbled over her next words, pointing out the first thing that came to mind, "Um, hey, is it me, or have we been here before? Where the hell are we going?"

Coming to a halt, Luke pulled his ticket from his pocket, scrutinizing the seat number on it as well as the section signs displayed around them. "I have no idea, the seat number on here don't look like the rest of the sections. Hang on, I'll ask."

He found an usher a few yards away, and returned to Lorelai a few moments later.

"So?" she inquired.

Crossing his arms in front of him, Luke set his jaw, a hint of exasperation visible in his actions. "When you failed to mention the game was in California," he explained sternly, "You also failed to mention the seat were in some corporate box somewhere."

Lorelai's mouth fell open in surprise, any lingering unease over the 'Gilmore comment' fading rapidly. "Really?"

"Yes," Luke confirmed with a groan, "So now were probably stuck with a bunch of business guys like your father." He gave her a less than warm and fuzzy glare as punctuation.

"Goody," Lorelai replied, a sour expression gracing her features that indicated she was none too happy about her father's omission of the seating arrangement information either. "Sorry about that…" she said, apologizing to Luke. "But hey," she then pointed out, recalling one thing from a few trips to corporate boxes for events over the course of her childhood. "Don't you get free booze in those things? And we're not driving…" She added in a sing-song voice.

Having gone through the obligatory introductions and tossing around of Richard Gilmore's name with the other occupants of the box, Luke and Lorelai settled into their seats in the luxury suite – the front row of course, so Lorelai could put her feet up, and because no one else in the suite looked to be much interested in actually watching the game anyway, never mind from the front row. Either way, they didn't actually have much time to spare once they sat down. Almost immediately after they arrived, players returned to the ice, lining up for the national anthem.

Much to Lorelai's dismay, after the Star-Spangled Banner, the referees signaled for the starting players to get in position for the opening face-off. "Hey, where's the Canadian anthem?" she complained.

"The teams are from California and New Jersey," Luke deadpanned in response.

"So?"

Luke tore his eyes from the action, which had just started down on the ice, to clarify incredulously, "They play the Canadian anthem when there is a Canadian team."

Lorelai frowned, stating simply, "Sad."

"Why?" Luke asked.

"Well," Lorelai explained, "I don't feel like I'm getting the whole hockey experience without some Canadian-ness." With a disappointed shake of her head, she lamented, "It's not a good way to start my relationship with hockey."

At the implication of her words, Luke turned to Lorelai, genuinely surprised, "This is the only game you've ever been to? How is that possible? You're from Connecticut."

"Yes, Connecticut, not Canada," Lorelai remarked snidely. "Therefore, yes," she smirked, speaking without thinking, "I am still a hockey virgin. By bringing me here, you realize, you are taking my hockey virginity." She fluttered her eyelashes coyly, instructing, "Be gentle…"

And there it was again. The oddly intense look from Luke, only this time Lorelai had brought it upon herself. And the same blush that had colored her cheeks earlier was darkening the edges of Luke's ears as well.

The awkward moment persisted until Luke cleared his throat roughly, stiltedly informing Lorelai of something: "Uh, you know there is hockey outside of Canada…"

"Really?" Lorelai gasped in jest, just glad to have been relieved of the task of somehow getting herself out of the awkward hole she'd dug with her last comment. First making a show of glancing around her Californian surroundings, she shot back wryly at Luke, "Thanks for the newsflash."

"I mean at home," Luke rephrased. "In Stars Hollow. Probably at Chilton. Probably wherever you went to school–"

"Loomis," Lorelai cut in.

Nodding in acknowledgement, Luke continued, "They have hockey. And there was an NHL team in Hartford."

"Really?" That Lorelai hadn't known, reinforcing her point way back at the beginning of the Ducks/Devils/California extravaganza that was their trip.

"Until a few years ago – the Whalers," Luke recalled. "I used to go see games in high school."

A soft smile crossed Lorelai's face at the mental picture of a younger Luke, "Your hockey pha…"

Unfortunately, she was rudely cut off by Luke and sixty-thousand other people suddenly leaping to their feet and cheering, not to mention buzzers, horns, and strains of Queen's 'We Will Rock You.' "Oh, oh," she stammered, tensing in surprise. Inching to the edge of her seat and craning her neck to try and see the ice surface, she tugged on the bottom of Luke's shirt, "What'd I miss?"

"The Ducks scored," Luke shouted over the din, still clapping loudly with a broad grin.

"And yay?" Lorelai countered tentatively, somewhat taken aback by Luke's involvement in the celebration. Luke getting exuberant like that over anything other than squelching one of Taylor's evil plans was definitely new.

Luke gestured to the rest of the arena with a nod as he sat back down, "Unless you want a pack of a few thousand angry fans after you."

"Yay!" Lorelai echoed belatedly, eliciting a few stares for her odd timing. But despite the 'yay,' she felt the need to clarify something with Luke. "But we're from closer to Jersey…" she pointed out in confusion, "Shouldn't we cheer for them?"

Switching immediately to the same timbre of voice he used whenever he heard her cell phone ring in the diner, Luke lectured her harshly, "A.) No, it's the Devils, and if you were ever a fan of any other team in the Northeast, which I was, you hate the Devils. And B.)," he continued with less of an edge, humoring her, "Even if it wasn't the Devils, I think you'd hurt Doug's feelings." He gestured to the toy, which Lorelai had carefully positioned on the seat next to her so that he too could watch the game.

"Right!" Lorelai gasped, tickled that Luke had, for once, gone along willingly with her rather insane habit of personifying anything and everything she came across. "Sorry Doug," she apologized in contrition. Another round of cheers distracted her not long after. "Ooh, more scoring?" she asked Luke, peering out at the action on the ice.

Luke shook his head, his level of excitement definitely not up to where it had been for the first goal. "Fight," he corrected.

"Oh, my, yes," Lorelai cringed, suddenly catching a glimpse of the two combatants – one of which already being rather bloody – on the large screen at center ice. "I guess it is a fight isn't it? Such violence in the hockeying!"

Luke rolled his eyes with a soft snort of amusement, "Hockey is not a verb."

"Says you," was Lorelai's snide retort before she asked, "And this fighting is a good thing apparently?"

"Extra entertainment value I guess," Luke surmised. "It's not exactly prime hockey country here, these people probably just come for the beer and the fights."

Lorelai's eyes went wide with exaggerated disbelief. "Seriously?" she exclaimed. "I should _totally_ sell tickets to Friday night dinners if people want to see fighting. Damn," she scowled, "I could have been piling up cash for three years now." With a forceful poke to Luke's bicep, she instructed, "Remind me to broker a deal with Ticketmaster when we get home."

His attention already back on the game, Luke nodded his offhand agreement, "Will do."

Once the first intermission rolled around, Lorelai was beginning to whine about being hungry. Rather than face the daunting lines at concession stands between periods for the junk she really wanted, he'd sent her to the food spread at the back of the suite to tide her over until she got her beloved nacho disgustingness. Ever the party pooper, in Lorelai's mind, he refused to join her lest he have to mingle with the business-types. He just sat there flipping through the game program he'd gotten on the way in, examining stats – which apparently meant who had scored how many goals when. Not exactly entertaining as far as she was concerned. She'd already gotten everything she could out of the program, perusing the pictures of all the pretty, pretty hockeying guys. Until Luke had pulled his usual bubble-bursting routine and pointed out their dates of birth and that the bulk of the team – especially the 'pretty' players with faces not yet marred by years of NHL time – was a good five to ten years younger than her. It was then that she'd shut up about the hockey players and taken to whining at him about the food.

Lorelai wasn't overly upset at being relegated to the free food, however. She had no idea what the hell the first thing she picked up was – something with cheese was as far as she got in her investigation before she stuffed one of the hors d'oeuvres into her mouth. "Mmm, wow, these are really good," she moaned at no one in particular. Cheesy goodness… Her curiosity piqued, she turned to the woman nearest her, the wife of one of the fifty-ish year-old insurance guys running around the suite, and asked, "Excuse me, do you know what these are?"

"Goodness no," the woman chuckled, taking a sip from her glass of wine, "Too many calories for me to even bother knowing what's in them."

Lorelai gave a good-natured shrug and reached for another whatever-it-was, "Eh, more for me."

The woman grinned wickedly, lifting a pinky off her glass to gesture in Luke's direction, "Of course," she nudged Lorelai, speaking in low, gossipy tones, "I suppose if I had one of those to help me work it off at night I might be able to eat like that and still look like you."

Lorelai, however, was still focused on the cheesy things and the equally tempting bacon-y things on the next platter. "One of what?" she inquired absent-mindedly as she struggled to balance her napkinful of snacks.

"How is he?" The woman raised her eyebrows in a knowing smirk, "You two look like you get good share of calorie-burning in."

Still not catching on, Lorelai uttered an innocent, "What?" as she stuffed another hors d'oeuvre in her mouth. As she chewed, she followed her companion's salacious gaze over to… _Luke._ "Oh!" Lorelai exclaimed, nearly choking on her food as she finally zeroed in on the insinuation. "No. No, no, no, no, no," she protested immediately, "Luke and I, we're not…" The woman appeared smug and not at all convinced as Lorelai babbled on hurriedly, "We're just friends," she insisted. "He's…" He's… What was he? What was Luke? Words failing her, Lorelai was forced to resort back to another simple, straightforward "No." Gesturing awkwardly down her body, she attempted to dodge any further bullets by offering an alternative explanation for her slim figure, "I was just lucky with the whole metabolism thing."

"Well, then you must have someone even better waiting for you at home," came the next innuendo-laced accusation.

"Uh, no…" Lorelai stammered, uncomfortable with both the line of questioning and the place her own mind was going as a result of the original question.

"Honey, what's wrong with you then?" The woman tittered with astonishment. And in a low voice, she hissed somewhat drunkenly in Lorelai's direction, "I'd be on my back faster than you're downing those things if I had him around."

Lorelai cringed at the visual; the woman was Miss Patty all over again, minus few dress sizes. She protested once more, though somewhat less convincingly than in the first round, "It's not like that…"

With a sidelong glance shot in the direction of her husband, the woman continued in hushed tones as her gaze darted again in Luke's direction, "Do you mind if I give him a try then? Look what I'm normally stuck with."

Lorelai had the unfortunate timing of having just place another bite of food in her mouth, The original purpose had just been to give her something to do besides dwell on the thought of 'burning calories' with Luke. She just ended up choking down the whole mouthful once again at the woman's proposition. "No, you can't…" Her instincts had her protest immediately – get your cougar claws away from my…

My _nothing_, Lorelai realized with unexpected, not to mention unwarranted, disappointment. She had no claim over Luke's nocturnal activities, as they were, with this woman, with Nicole – she shuddered inwardly at both those thoughts – or with anyone else. But still… "He…" she began again haltingly. "He has a girlfriend," she eventually spit out, sure that her face must have been a deep shade of crimson by that point given the utter absurdity and discomfort quotient of the topic at hand.

And while Lorelai had naively presumed that the mention of Luke having a significant other would finally put the most awkward conversation ever to rest, it just earned her an even more impressed leer. "Oh does he?" The woman inquired in an appreciative tone. "And she's all alone back East, I presume? I see," she proclaimed knowingly, "I see. Out of town together for a 'hockey' game. Sure you are. At least that explains you looking like you know nothing about this insipid sport." She gave Lorelai a companionable wink and a nudge with her elbow, continuing, "Don't worry sweetie, we're all west-coasters here, your secret's safe. You two have fun while you can. Hell," she pointed out, "The restrooms here are almost passable for a _liaison_, if you know what I mean." With another awkward wink in Lorelai's direction, she set down her now-empty wineglass. "I'll just have to go amuse myself with one of the team's extra players in the stands." And with a wave, she was off, "Ta-ta!"

Utterly shell-shocked, Lorelai couldn't even muster up the effort to watch incredulously as the woman disappeared. Blindsided was the understatement of the decade. Had she just been told, by some stranger, mind you, to drag Luke – Luke! – into the bathroom not ten feet away and jump him?

The fleeting images that subconsciously flashed through her mind of doing just that and the utter impropriety of even thinking like along those lines in terms of Luke rattled her even more than the woman's words.

Forgoing her collection of greasy delicacies, she fumbled her way over to the bar's array of alcohol. She grabbed the closest thing to her, and, allowing herself a glance at Luke, still sitting there flipping through the program, unaware of the maelstrom in her head, popped the top off the bottle.

Her hand shaking visibly, and staring blankly across the arena, she downed half the beer in one gulp.

**To be continued…**


	4. Third Period

**Chapter 4: Third Period**

The woman's words had left Lorelai far more shaken than she'd ever admit. Sure, it was one thing for people like Patty and Babette to insinuate things, to make lewd comments here and there. They knew Luke, they knew her. Most of the time it was meaningless anyway, probably intended to irk Luke more than anything. But this… this _person_? Some random wife of some random business man that her father may or may not have met at one time in his travels? Implying that she and Luke were in some way radiating 'we ravish each other on a daily basis' vibes?

Ridiculous. Luke was… Luke.

Except now she had the somewhat disturbing visual of actually following through on the woman's suggestion. God-damned power of suggestion, Lorelai shuddered inwardly. She'd never thought that way about Luke before, and she wasn't about to start now. As if thinking it would somehow bring it to fruition – the Stay-Puft Marshmallow man of awkward bathroom trysts at a hockey game in California with your best guy friend who already had a girlfriend. Because that wouldn't be awkward at all. _Right_, she grimaced, sure it wouldn't.

And though she tried valiantly to push the though illicit musings from her mind – reading every last word on her beer bottle, re-scrutinizing the yummy cheesy things for any clues as to the other ingredients, switching to another brand of beer for her next bottle and reading every last word on that one too, even contemplating the possibility of striking up a conversation with one of the boring insurance guys – each involuntary glance in Luke's direction just sent her conflicted mind back to those very disturbing mental images. Luke pressing her roughly against the wall in the bathroom, her hands on his belt, his scruffy chin scraping the sensitive skin of her neck, her legs wrapped tightly around his waist…

Oh God, dirty! Lorelai chastised herself, all of the sudden realizing where her daydreaming had once again drifted. She felt her face flush, feeling for sure that someone in the room would be able to read her mind and launch into a lecture on how utterly inappropriate such thoughts were.

And they were. Inappropriate. So dirty, and so inappropriate. Luke had Nicole. And she wasn't going anywhere near the role of 'the other woman,' -- especially not after the thing a year ago with Christopher and Sherry.

Of course, Lorelai reminded herself, that was all beside the point anyway. Even if he _was_ single, he was still Luke. She just didn't go there with Luke.

Oh, Luke! Good God, it dawned on her, her eyes widening in horror – what if Luke was picking up on the vibes she hadn't known she was sending? Did he think this? Did he think she was liable to fling herself at him in raw sexual desperation at any given moment?

The mere mention of 'couple-y' vibes on the part of both of them – which Lorelai was sure were a figment of the slightly tipsy socialite's imagination – all of the sudden had Lorelai's mind racing for fear that it was not both of them sending vibes, but perhaps just her? The she was somehow pulsating with 'I want you, Luke' vibes?

Why – _how_ – would that be the case though? She downed the rest of her beer and reached for another, as if she was sure she'd find answers at the bottom of one of the bottles.

Sick of the mental torture to which she was subjecting herself, she brought the cool bottle up to her forehead, hoping the soothing chill would give her a little reprieve.

It didn't. As soon as she felt the slick, damp glass against her skin, Lorelai was immediately bombarded with visions of last night – Luke holding ice to her bruised head, as she pranced around in her underwear in front of him. And snuggling up to him in her sleep? God, she'd practically draped herself all over him.

Lorelai cringed. She totally was sending out… _vibes_. Were he any other guy, things like that were just code for 'I want you, and I'm so cute and flirty, you know you want me too…' Luke had to be picking up on something. He wasn't an idiot and he wasn't blind. She felt her face redden at the thought that Luke must be thinking she was throwing herself at him.

But she didn't want Luke, Lorelai reminded herself resolutely, shaking off any and all 'vibe' thoughts. She'd _never_ wanted him. Right?

But now she was having those… those _other_ thoughts. The disturbing ones. Which were rapidly becoming more and more disturbing – not because of the subject matter itself, but because, somewhere deep down, a tiny part of her was actually enjoying those thoughts a little more than she probably should.

Out of nowhere, a voice pulls her from her thoughts. "Jeez, you leave any for anyone else?"

Lorelai heard the words, but their speaker didn't register in her mind immediately. Half a second later, she jerked herself out of her daze, her eyes flashing wide open as she suddenly felt Luke's presence much, much closer to her than she was comfortable with. "Huh?" she mumbled less than eloquently. At the same time, she practically tripped over her own feet in her haste to back away from him as he reached past her to point at her growing collection of empty beer bottles.

Luke's hand immediately shot out to steady her – a nice gesture, yes, and one that probably would have been greatly appreciated on Lorelai's part had it happened on any other day. Last night, say, when she was in the middle of colliding with the ill-placed wall.

But now, seeing that hand, _that_ hand of _that_ person, reaching towards her only brought to mind the visual of frantic groping in the bathroom, that very hand snaking up beneath her shirt.

At that moment, the only two coherent thoughts Lorelai had were, one, that she needed an exit strategy, and two, that Luke was indicating that he wanted a beer too. Killing two birds with one stone, or so she thought, she absently shoved her own bottle in the direction of his chest, "Oh, uh, here," she mumbled, turning to leave. Where she was planning on leaving to was another matter.

However, the issue of her destination was rendered moot by Luke's voice, yelling, "Lorelai!" coupled with the distinct thud of a glass bottle on thin carpeting halted her progress.

She turned back around guiltily, taking in the small damp spot on Luke's shirt, and the larger one down on his left pant leg where the beer had splashed up upon impact. "Shit," she grimaced, "Sorry…" Quickly crouching down to rescue the beer and prevent any more from spilling on the carpet, she began fumbling her way through an explanation, "I…"

Luke must not have heard her, for he cut her off with a gently teasing smile, "I didn't mean I wanted that one."

"Right," Lorelai nodded, fighting to muster up some dignity, "Right." In retrospect, yes, she knew practically throwing her half-empty beer at Luke in the midst of a mad dash to the door was probably not the best way to go about things, especially if she was trying to feign a cool, calm, collected front. Which was what she was going to have to do, despite the context in which her messed-up mind was now seeing Luke. With a slight shake of her head, she cleared her throat nervously and gestured stiffly towards the bar – and its full, unopened beers, "Do you…"

Giving Lorelai a suspicious once-over, Luke shook his head slightly, reaching past her. "I'll get it," he informed her.

"Right," Lorelai repeated, Luke's proximity rendering her otherwise mute. She cursed herself for not being able to muster up some sort of snappy, clever joke about the travesty of wasting beer by spilling it, for the absence of just such a quip had only intensified the curious gaze Luke was giving her.

"You ok?" he asked, popping the cap from the bottle he'd grabbed.

"Wha?" Lorelai blushed yet again, shaking herself from the daze she'd become lost in as she'd very intently watched Luke's hands deftly at work opening the beer. She could just imagine those same hands making quick work of the clasp of her bra. "Yeah, uh, fine," she stammered, "Fine." Determined to get Luke's focus off her – because he could read her mind, of course – and back on the stupid hockey game, she forced out the closest thing she could to normal conversation, "And the… the … hockey, and the ice… and the… whatnot?"

"Fine…" Luke replied, still looking as if he didn't believe her. Nevertheless, he tilted his head in the direction of their seats and the players that had begun the second period, "You coming back?"

"Uh…" Now she was expected to just sit there next to him, Lorelai's brain screamed. While she continued to mentally violate him, however unintentionally? For however long the stupid game would go? She couldn't even manage to stand next to him for two seconds without suffering a full-on spaz attack. But what else could she do? Luke had paid for the whole trip; she had to at least pretend she was grateful for more than cheesy things and free beer. Taking a deep breath, she plastered on a sweet smile, "Sure. Yes," she replied firmly, more to convince herself than Luke, "Ok."

Still appearing less than assured of Lorelai's 'fine-ness,' Luke squinted slightly at her as he led her back to their seats, asking, "You sure you're ok?"

Lying through her teeth, Lorelai quickly blurted out, "Headache." In truth, any residual pain from her run-in with the wall has been surpassed by the other goings-on in her head from the moment she'd caught the meaning of that woman's insinuations. But as long as Luke couldn't _actually_ read her mind, she didn't have to reveal that fact.

"Right. And all that's gonna help?" he smirked, gesturing to her – fourth? fifth? What number was she on now anyway? – beer.

"I'm…" Luckily for Lorelai, she wasn't forced to stumble over the rest of a reply; someone scored another goal – the Ducks, she assumed, given the generally ecstatic reaction of Luke and the rest of the crowd. In any case, Luke was zeroed in on the game once again.

"Ok then," Lorelai sighed under her breath. She was half relieved to have Luke's attention focused on something other than her. The rest of her was less than thrilled to once again be left alone with her thoughts.

She lasted three whole minutes before she realized that being completely left alone with her thoughts was a bad, bad thing. So, in the only way she could think of, she tried to distract herself – she started bugging Luke about hockey. What followed was an endless stream of questions, anything and everything about the rules, the players, the teams… It was actually killing two birds with one stone, or at least that was her initial intent. Not only would she get her mind to focus on something besides the steady stream of illicit daydreams running through her mind, but it also ran the risk of Luke getting annoyed over her interrupting his precious hockey. If got angry with her, maybe – maybe? – she'd be able to turn his anger at into anger at him for getting mad at her? And it would somehow override the other…_feelings_ she was having? Or so she could hope, anyway.

So Lorelai quizzed and questioned, exhausting all of the inane inquiries she could come up with. Not that it did any good. By the time the second period drew to a close, the only things that she'd learned were that she would never be a hockey fan – as far as she was concerned, icing was something that went on cakes and cookies, checking was a type of bank account, and anyone who gets knocked out cold should be sent to the emergency room, not back out into the game, even if he was the captain and ended up saving the game – that Luke _didn't_ get upset over all her questions, and that the fact that he was so willing to humor her, and always while sporting that bashful smirk of a smile he had, just made him that much _more_ attractive to her.

Needless to say, those pesky little bathroom scenarios her imagination had been conjuring up weren't going anywhere.

Though, if anything, Lorelai suddenly realized, appalled, her sultry little musings were actually getting _less_ x-rated. Sure, there were still flashes of slick, sweaty skin, nails digging into backs… But she could also just as easily see them just walking along in a mall, as they had that afternoon, only holding hands and sneaking quick kisses behind racks of clothes. She could see herself lounging around in the apartment above the diner, curled up with him on the very same couch he'd been relegated to only a month or so ago when the Haddelstadts had showed up. She could see them together at another hockey game, at a baseball game, in matching caps and acting all cutesy and couple-y.

And that, quite possibly, was even scarier to her than those first 'jumping-Luke-in-the-bathroom' fantasies that had first showed up an hour ago.

No, Lorelai shook her head roughly, squeezing her eyes tightly closed. She absolutely could _not_ allow herself to think like that. It was beyond wrong, and where in the hell had stuff like that come from anyway, she wondered incredulously. It was _Luke_, for God's sake! But she didn't even want to let herself dwell on the implications of that for the time being. Regardless of him being Luke, he was a guy who already had a girlfriend.

Quickly reaching for the abandoned game program from the seat next to her, she frantically flipped through the pages in search of anything that could distract her. She closed it again with a flourish two seconds later. It was no help. "Crap," she whimpered, sliding down in her seat. She was in so much trouble.

"Crap what?"

The program landed a full two rows behind her.

So lost in her thoughts, she hadn't even noticed Luke leave his seat, never mind his less than extravagant return. The sound of his voice had seemingly come out of nowhere, practically causing her heart to stop as she jerked back up in her seat with a hiccup of surprise. Thus the program taking flight.

"N-n-nothing," she stammered, trying to right herself as gracefully as she could manage. "Just a general 'crap,'" she joked stiltedly, trying to force her eyes anywhere but his direction.

Even as Luke sat down beside her, Lorelai fidgeted, sure once again that Luke could somehow magically read her mind and see how absolutely insane she was for thinking the things she was…

"Here," Luke's voice penetrated her thoughts once again. And then she found herself with a tray of nachos in her lap, bright orange fake cheesy 'digustingness' and all.

With a sheepish gesture to the food, Luke explained, "Well, I figured even you would get sick of the fancy crap they've got back there, and I did promise you could get these." And then he just smiled that doofy, self-deprecating smile again, looking all adorable, and perfect, and _Luke_.

Lorelai forced a shaky smile, looked down at the nachos and back up at him. Oh, she was in so much trouble…

Despite the utter madness that was preoccupying her mind, once the final seconds of the game began ticking down, even Lorelai found herself getting caught up in the crowd's enthusiasm. So she actually was a sucker for the storybook endings where the guy who gets flattened halfway though the game comes back to save the day and win the game. Practically a right out of a Disney movie itself.

Joining in on the clapping when the Ducks won, she almost - _almost_ - allowed herself to forget the Luke-thoughts that had plagued her for the past two hours.

Until Luke turned to her in his own, however uncharacteristic, fit of excitement over the win.

"Can you believe that?" he exclaimed, "What a comeback! They won!"

And he kissed her.

Lorelai's eyes flew open at the contact.

It wasn't romantic, and it wasn't steamy, or sensual, or sweet, or sexy, or anything else that started with 's.'

It was fast, it was rough, it was hardly anything more than two sets of lips momentarily smushed together as one of the participating sets of lips got a little too caught up in the celebration. Luke's hands grasping the sides of her face, the briefest second when she was able to register the feeling of his lips on hers, and it was over.

Luke was right back to reveling in the victory, clapping and cheering along with everyone else in the arena. His only further acknowledgement of Lorelai at all was an appreciative, "Oh man, do you think your father can get tickets for the game 7? Or I could…"

He kept talking after that, but his voice was nothing more than a dull buzz in Lorelai's ears, lost in the din of the rest of the elated crowd.

Luke had kissed her. _Kissed_ her. Not two hours after dragging herself to the conclusion that such an action was one she actually, possibly, _probably_ desired, he had kissed her.

Lorelai couldn't move, her hands still frozen in mid-air, where they'd flown up to brace herself against Luke's kiss.

His kiss. Oh God, her mind wailed. He'd kissed her. And it was a horrible kiss, and he'd meant nothing by it, and he wasn't even acknowledging that anything out of the ordinary had transpired.

But it had. Luke had just dangled the proverbial carrot right there in front of her face. Only she'd just realized that she really, really wanted the carrot and he'd gone so far as to torture her by letting her have a little taste and then ripping it back away.

The carrot was Nicole's. And as much as Lorelai might want it, she couldn't have it.

More than shaken up, Lorelai knew she needed out. If she'd thought she was in need of an exit strategy when she'd spilled beer on Luke earlier, boy, was she mistaken. That had been nothing. That mental shakeup was the equivalent of a garbage truck going by and rattling the windows, not the ginormous, tsunami-inducing emotional earthquake she was currently being struck by. She needed out.

Before Luke even got a chance to notice, Lorelai, reeling and dumbfounded as ever by Luke's actions, her own reaction, and the ensuing whirlwind of emotions, grabbed Doug and made a mad dash for the door. Beating most of the crowds, she was out of the arena and in a cab in minutes.

In the cab, despite the short duration of the trip back to the hotel, Lorelai was helpless to fend off the tears that threatened. Even as she tried to blink them back, big, fat drops rolled unimpeded down her cheeks. Why did things always happen like this for her? She finally thinks she has it with Christopher, and bam, Sherry's pregnant and it's all over before it even started. She's all set to get married and the happily-ever-after with Max, and her stupid mother has to bring up trying on wedding dresses, and all of the sudden it's nope, not getting married. Even with Rory, Lorelai had just devised the plan of all plans to keep the Gilmores happy about her future college choice but still manage to avoid stuffy Vassar, and Smith, and Yale and everything else East coast - Stanford. But of course, not soon after, it was uh-oh Lorelai, haven't had your period in a while, and oh, would you look at that, the stick turned pink.

Of course, this now was the winner by far. Because there had never even been a glimmer of hope. She'd already missed the boat by miles. Luke had been with Nicole for how long already? And they were going skiing, and meeting parents... And Lorelai was just now thinking gee, maybe I'd like to give Luke a try?

Impeccable timing, as always, she chastised herself with a sniffle. She would have been fine! But big, dumb, stupid old Luke had to go and kiss her. And now she was a mess. And she still had to share a room with him, it dawned on her as she exited the cab. Shit... Fuck... At least they were leaving tomorrow. Of course, that meant she'd have to spend the entire trans-continental trip sharing the very close quarters of airplane seats with him. "Ugh,' she sighed. She'd deal with that later. First she had to make it through the night with him in the same room.

Up in their room, Lorelai bit her lip and wiped back a few more tears as she surveyed the scene. There was no way in hell she could manage sleeping in the same bed as Luke anymore. And she really, really didn't want to have another run-in with the wall. But there was no telling how Luke would take it if he came back to find her in 'his' bed again – she couldn't risk the very slim possibility that he would be okay with that and slip right in next to her. She'd have to suck it up and deal with the wall, and soon, she realized, catching a glimpse of the bedside clock, its little red numbers glaring back at her. The hotel's courtesy shuttle from the game, which Luke would probably be on, would be getting back any minute. Well, at least given the state of her emotions, she wouldn't be likely to get any sleep anyway.

So she quickly shed her clothes, putting on proper pajamas this time, and curled up in 'her' bed. When she finally heard Luke enter the room about twenty minutes later, she froze, squeezing her eyes shut and praying that he wouldn't wake her up in a fit of rage for having left him alone at the arena. He didn't.

Lorelai could tell, however, that he did hesitate, hovering uncertainly for a moment at the foot of her bed, and for a split second, she was half-tempted to sit up and demand to know what in hell he'd been thinking in kissing her like that.

But he would just demand an explanation of her bizarre behavior in return, and there was no way she'd ever be able to explain that to him. She barely understood it herself.

So she remained silent, forcing her breathing to appear deep and slow in an effort to feign sleep and just get Luke to go away.

Eventually he did. She heard the rustling of sheets across the room, and, later, Luke's own deep breathing and faint snores.

Lorelai sighed, though it eased neither the tightness in her chest nor the turmoil in her mind.

It was going to be a long night.

**To be continued…**


	5. Overtime

**Please note: I'm begging anyone who leaves a review to NOT mention anything about Season 7 on TV. Absolutely no references to it at all please!!! I'm not boycotting it, I'm just temporarily in a TV market not carrying the CW. All the episodes are being taped for me, don't worry, I just don't want to be spoiled at all about anything until I can watch the tapes. This includes everything from the premiere onward, not just spoilers for future episodes. So, again, please, please, please, don't mention anything about Season 7 at all in reviews.**

**Chapter 5: Overtime**

Lorelai had been right – the night was practically endless. Hours upon hours spent trying to reconcile her newfound feelings with the knowledge that there was no way she could act on them. In the end, the only conclusions she arrived at were, one, she was losing it, two, she really just needed to go home and wallow on the couch with some Haagen Daz or Ben and Jerry's, and three, that the crossing of the country that had to occur in order for her to get home in the first place was going to be exceedingly awkward and uncomfortable with Luke in close proximity the entire time.

So in the interest of keeping him at arm's length as long as she possibly could, and because she wasn't getting any sleep anyway, she rose from bed earlier than she needed to,– hey, at least the wall didn't get the best of her this time – quickly showered and dressed, and then grabbed her luggage and made a break for the lobby as quietly as she could.

Unfortunately, in yet another testament to her perpetually horrible timing with respect to absolutely everything in life, she'd arrived downstairs just in time to catch a whiff of exhaust fumes from the airport shuttle. Which meant she had to putz around the lobby for another half an hour while she waited for the next one.

And even more unfortunately, that extra half hour was enough time for Luke to catch up to her. Apparently she must not have been quite as quiet as she'd needed to be, and had probably woken him as she made her departure from the room. Lorelai had already situated herself in her seat at the back of the van and was contemplating asking for a seat far, far away from Luke on the plane, when, half a second before the shuttle's door closed, there he was sliding into the last empty seat towards the front.

He turned an gave her a quizzical look, silently imploring her for some sort of explanation as to her odd behavior, but Lorelai knew there was no way in hell she was going to be able to come up with enough inane babble to talk her way around her antics. She just looked away.

Once they reached the airport and exited the shuttle, though he remained silent, Lorelai could feel Luke's questioning gaze boring into her. She deftly evaded any forthcoming confrontations by quickly snatching up her bag from the sidewalk and making a break for the ticket counter, all the while doing her best to avoid any and all eye contact with him.

But of course there was no completely avoiding him. She practically whimpered aloud when she heard his footsteps right behind her and saw his passport slapped down on the counter right next to her. It was going to be a long flight…

If the flight attendant behind the counter noticed the odd dynamic between them, she didn't comment, rather kept her cheerful smile as she scanned their passports and began the preparations for the ticketing. All too aware of Luke's unsettling presence as he hovered just behind her, Lorelai silently urged the woman to hurry up.

"Well, it looks like there is some pretty severe weather along the Ohio River Valley and across the Northeast today," the woman at the counter finally chirped, clacking away on her keyboard. "I don't want to get you stuck in that, so I'm just going to check some other flights to see if we can't keep you south of all that for most of the trip. Is that okay?" she asked Luke and Lorelai.

Lorelai wasn't exactly prepared for such news, and instinctively whipped her head around to consult with Luke. Luke, however, was already in the process of hurriedly replying "That's fine," as she did so. He turned back just in time to meet Lorelai's eyes as she turned to him. The questions in his eyes were evident immediately; Lorelai flushed nervously and quickly lowered her gaze. To his credit, Luke didn't make a move toward any verbal inquiries, but he was still _there_.

After a few more rather uncomfortable moments in which Lorelai tried in vain to ignore Luke's presence, oh-so close behind her, the airline representative finally addressed them again. "Ok, we can get you on an American Airlines flight through Dallas, and then up to Hartford from there," she informed them. "You should be ok as long as things aren't too bad right as you're about to come in for landing at Bradley. Unfortunately, the Dallas flight is quite full and we don't have two seats together for you. Once you get to the gate, you can try speaking to the flight attendant there and try to arrange a switch if you'd like."

"Separate is fine," Lorelai blurted out immediately, her gut instinct to keep Luke at a distance reigning over any semblance of tact. She could practically feel Luke's inquisitive gaze boring into the side of her head as she nodded at the woman over the counter.

Giving Luke a slight double take, the woman refocused on Lorelai, forcing yet another bright smile. "Ok then, just give me one moment here…"

As boarding passes were printed, and Lorelai's bag tagged and sent off into the checked luggage abyss, Lorelai was sure she heard the faintest of pointed whispers of her name coming from Luke. Well, not faint, per se, but that would certainly be her stance should he call her out for blatantly ignoring her as they stood there.

As soon as they had their boarding passes and were out of earshot of the counter, Lorelai found herself with Luke hissing at her over her shoulder, the restraint he'd previously showed apparently fading, "What the hell was that?"

"Uh, what?" was Lorelai's innocent reply.

"Separate seats?" Luke demanded incredulously.

She gave a halfhearted shrug as she darted ahead of him towards the escalator. "What?" she asked, feigning ignorance.

Lorelai didn't have to turn around to know exactly the confused look Luke was sporting as he pressed further, "What is _wrong_ with you?"

And to be honest, though she didn't see that confused face, it annoyed her nonetheless. "Nothing," she snapped. Like he didn't know what was wrong. Even ignoring the fact that she'd been in the midst of a little emotional crisis already when he'd kissed her, he'd still _kissed_ her! She'd have flipped out anyway, whether that woman had planted ideas in her head or not. The more Lorelai dwelled on Luke's seemingly clueless behavior, the more she silently seethed. Was he really that dense that he couldn't figure out that that was what was going on here? And who was he to be accusing her of acting oddly when he was the one to cross that line that they'd always had? Sure, she'd been leaps and bounds past it in her head, but she never would have acted on it!

What had started out as a determined stride rooted in Lorelai's desire to keep Luke at a safe distance quickly evolved into her practically stomping across the airport. How dare he mess with her already-tortured mind and then have the nerve to say she was acting strange? Screw him…

As she neared the security area, Luke finally caught up to her, muttering in what sounded suspiciously like a joking tone intent on smoothing over the awkwardness, "You planning on ditching Rory all the time like that in Europe? I think that's child abandonment."

Lorelai, however, was hardly in the mood for jokes. "Oh look, hey, scary federal agents," she snapped tersely, "Just get in line."

As luck would have it, the security guards ushered Luke to a line a few rows over from Lorelai. And glad as she was to get him out of her immediate vicinity even for a moment, she could still feel his questioning eyes on her the whole time. Which just irked her even more, until she reached the point when she was half-wondering if she'd be able to make it through the flight without trying to throttle Luke at every word her said. The clueless inquiries were really getting to her. She almost wished she was still in awkward, embarrassed, jumpy mode from the night before. At least then, Luke had been too wrapped up in the stupid hockey game to notice anything wrong with her.

Of course, because she wasn't miserable enough already, the fates intervened to reinstate some of that embarrassed awkwardness. The security guard at the x-ray conveyor belt wasn't up to speed on his Fashion 101, and, convinced that Lorelai's blazer was outerwear, made her remove it and place it in the plastic tub alongside her actual jacket. Swell. Because, as she immediately noticed, sliding the fabric off her shoulders to reveal the flimsy tank top she'd worn underneath, in her hurried frenzy to leave the hotel room that morning, she hadn't exactly matched up the undergarments with the outfit. The bright purple bra she'd packed for under the casual violet-ish lavender-ish top she'd worn to the game the night before was in no way at all the thing to be wearing under a pale blue, halter-style tank. Shit…

The shirt itself was enough to make her uncomfortable in the crowd – trying to be trendy and 'Cool Mom' with the outfits was one thing, but she knew that for the time being she looked like she was trying way too hard to look Rory's age. Add to that bright purple satin-y flashes sticking out here at there, and Lorelai's face flushed bright red as she scurried through the metal detector. And why the hell was she in a relatively short-hair phase? Lorelai cursed her hairdresser inwardly – she totally could have used an extra few inches for coverage.

And of course, as if it wasn't bad enough to have the eyes of every guy in a 10-foot radius giving her a once-over, Luke, a couple of lines over from her, had made it through the metal detector as well. His blatant stare, which only a moment or two ago, had just been making Lorelai angry, was now making her feel utterly naked there in front of him. It was no longer just a 'why-the-hell-are-you-acting-bizarrely' stare. Oh no, the way Luke had his eyes on her was… Well, she couldn't quite place it exactly, but as best as she could figure, it was some twisted amalgamation of the 'you're-annoying-the-hell-out-of-me' from a few moments ago, some generic 'male-ogling-female-with-bra-showing-because-he-has-a-y-chromosome-and-can't-not-look,' and something else. Something else…

Unfortunately, Lorelai never did get to figure out that something else. The next thing she knew, Luke's eyes darted up, inadvertently making eye contact with her. Before she could catch a glimpse of the red that tinged the tops of Luke's ears, Lorelai tore her eyes away from him, blushing furiously herself. The plastic trays holding her belongings clattered to a stop in front of her with impeccable timing, and before Luke, still in his own line a few feet away could even react, she was yanking her jacket back on and racing off to their gate.

By the time poor Luke caught up to her, his expression was most certainly squarely back in the 'you're-insane' category. But at that moment, Lorelai could not have cared less. Lack of sleep, lack of caffeine, anger, embarrassment, and the persistence of inappropriate Luke-thoughts came together to form Hurricane Lorelai; mumbling something incoherent about the bathroom to him, she practically shoved Luke into a seat at the gate and dumped her carry-on junk on his lap.

And until Lorelai heard their flight being called to board, hide in the bathroom was exactly what she did. Given the multi-stage meltdown she'd been going through since the night before, she simply could not wrap her frazzled mind around the concept of being anywhere in Luke's general vicinity for more than five seconds at a time. As much as she really didn't want to have to take a detour to get home, she was thanking the weather gods for diverting them through Texas on a flight with only single seats. Maybe, just maybe, she let herself believe, with Luke half a plane away, she could get some mental distance from the situation in addition to the physical.

Which was why she looked on in horror as, once they were on the plane, Luke casually slung his jacket into the overhead bin above her seat instead of continuing further down the aisle. "What are you doing?" she stuttered nervously.

A question with such an obvious answer did nothing to lessen the wary expression with which Luke was still eyeing Lorelai. "Sitting," he replied, lifting a single eyebrow slightly.

"We had separate seats," Lorelai blurted out immediately in protest. Not that it mattered; even as she spoke, Luke was situating himself in the aisle seat of the pair. Her instincts screaming at her that physical contact with Luke of any sort would be a bad, bad idea, she practically plastered herself to the window, contorting her body such that she remained as far as humanly possible from him, given the teeny, tiny space she was working with. Of course, this all while trying not to bang her head on the ceiling in an encore of her 'Nighttime Adventures with a Wall.'

Buckling his seat belt, Luke looked on in amusement at her antics. "I had mine changed while you were in the 'bathroom,'" he explained, air quotes not even necessary to convey his skepticism of the necessity of Lorelai's trip to the ladies' room.

Lorelai's shoulders sagged in resignation. "Oh," she mumbled. She lowered herself shakily to sit in her seat, thought still managing to take care to keep as far from Luke as the seating arrangement would allow.

To elicited the expected response from Luke: "Are you going to sit like that the whole time?"

"Huh?" Lorelai blinked absently at him, still focused more on not touching him rather than what he was saying.

"You are as far away from me as you can possibly get," Luke pointed out, only slightly accusingly. "These seats aren't exactly big either," he added, gesturing down.

Her normally timely wit failing her, Lorelai resorted to the same flimsy excuse she'd offered the woman who'd started the whole debacle, "Well thank God for fast metabolisms then." And needing any sort of out she could get, she quickly added a muttered, "I'm tired," as she balled up one of the flimsy airline blankets to use as a pillow.

Coupled with the fact she'd barely slept the night before, she was actually so intent on feigning sleep in order to avoid further conversation with Luke that she eventually did fall asleep.

She may have slept for the duration of the flight, but once they landed in Dallas, Lorelai was off the plane in record time. If she could have gotten away with it, she would have pushed it even further and tried climbing over seats just to put some semblance of space between her and Luke. After that plane ride, she was feeling that she was liable to spontaneously combust at any given moment.

After racing up the hallway to the terminal and determining that their next flight would be leaving from a gate only one over from where they'd arrived, Lorelai quickly surveyed her surroundings. Darting over to the new gate, she pulled a repeat performance – if it worked in LA, it could work in Texas. Without a word, she shoved her belongings into Luke's arms and turned to make her escape.

She didn't have quite enough stuff to prevent Luke from managing to free one hand to hastily grab her arm. "Where are you going?" he demanded incredulously.

Lorelai offered a weak smile, wresting herself from his grasp. "Bathroom?"

Luke just rolled his eyes, the undertone of skepticism not lost on Lorelai. "You realize we have almost three hours before we have to board again," he pointed out. "You take that long in there," he warned, gesturing to the nearest bathroom with a tilt of his head, "I'm coming in after you."

Foiled again, Lorelai winced inwardly. Fishing for any sort of excuse, she quickly yanked her purse out of Luke's arms. "I have to get Texas souvenirs too," she lied awkwardly, "For Rory…" And already taking off, she called behind her, "I'll be back."

Precisely two and a half hours later, right on time – a feat Lorelai for which congratulated herself, Lorelai cautiously approached Luke, not knowing what exactly his reaction might be after she'd ditched him.

She wasn't quite prepared to find him with smoke practically coming out of his ears. The minute Lorelai made her presence known, Luke whirled around with an enraged "Where the hell were you?"

"Souvenirs…" Lorelai began, holding up a 'Don't Mess With Texas' bumper sticker as proof as she trailed off. Luke just glared at her, leaving her to wonder if perhaps there wasn't something in the water in LA that had caused them both to go a little off their rockers.

Thankfully Luke's anger faded quickly. Regarding her with considerably less animosity than a moment ago, Luke just let out an exasperated sigh. "I was about to have you paged," he chastised.

"I'm here," Lorelai pointed out petulantly in her own defense, not particularly fond of the high-and-mighty air Luke's last statement had had. She surprised herself with the lack of awkwardness that came with her retort – hey, who knew that arguing could take your mind off the fact that you hadn't been comfortable around the guy for almost a full day? "Half an hour before take-off," she added huffily, yanking her boarding pass from her purse and flashing it in front of Luke's face, "That's what it says."

Luke, obviously neither a fan of waiting around for her nor the tone that _she'd_ just taken, eyed her with a withering stare. "We're not taking off," he snapped.

Lorelai felt her jaw go slack before she managed to force out some semblance of a stuttered, "Wh-what?" She hadn't been in the mood for jokes at any point since the stupid game, so Luke was tempting fate if this was some kind of joke to mess with her head even further.

"With the storms, hardly anything is landing in the Northeast," Luke explained flatly. "Things are flooded, there were a couple tornadoes up past Albany, and more coming in from out near Buffalo and Pittsburgh. There's storm warnings and tornado watches all over the Berkshires and down near us…" His voice faded out for a moment as he took in Lorelai's stunned expression before shrugging. "The closest they could get us is Philadelphia, and then we'd have to drive." Lorelai didn't even have a chance to grasp the fact that the plot she was quickly formulating – yes, rent a car and drive from Philly just so she could get the trip from hell over with – would just stick her back in a small, enclosed space with Luke for hours on end; as soon as she even parted her lips to form a single word, Luke read her like an open book. Blue eyes flashing a warning in her direction, he uttered a curt, "I am _not_ driving in storms like that."

Lorelai's shoulders slumped in defeat, her bags of souvenirs hanging listlessly from her limp hands. With a forlorn scan of the terminal in search of some sort of solution, she finally resigned herself to the inevitable, asking, "So now what?"

Luke folded his arms across his chest as he informed her, "They're putting people up in the airport hotel, then we get the first flight tomorrow morning. And a free ticket to wherever."

"Here?" Lorelai squeaked in disbelief. She'd been mentally preparing herself for playing jumbo-jet hopscotch, jumping from airport to airport across the eastern half of the continent until they made it to Connecticut, or even New York. But another night in a hotel, her mind raced. With Luke? She wanted to break down and cry right then and there. She didn't even know how much time had passed before she was finally able to come up with her next stellar comeback. "We're staying?" she practically whimpered.

"Well, I'd rather leave the actual terminal if that's ok with you," Luke replied, stooping down to gather Lorelai's carry-on items that he'd laid on the seat beside him. And without another word, he headed in the direction of the baggage claim.

Left alone and rendered nearly speechless by the simple fact that she was stuck in Dallas, where she was never supposed to be in the first place, Lorelai didn't have a clue as to how to proceed. But as Luke's form quickly grew smaller and threatened to disappear into the crowds, she pulled herself together, uttering a few plaintive "Luke, wait!"s as she scurried after him.

Before she knew it, they'd grabbed luggage from the carousel, hopped on the airport shuttle, and were up close and personal with a receptionist at the front desk of the airport's Hyatt Regency.

While Luke began making room arrangements, Lorelai stepped off to the side to make a quick phone call to check on Rory, who in turn assured her that the storms actually weren't that bad right around Stars Hollow, and that if a tornado did threaten to whisk her off to Oz, she'd be sure to go stay with Babette.

After hanging up with Rory, Lorelai ventured back over to Luke at the desk. Still dazed over the turn of events back on the western side of the country, never mind at home with the storms, the reality of the new accommodation situation didn't hit her until she overheard the desk clerk ask Luke if he needed two keys or one. She immediately tugged on Luke's sleeve – sounding absolutely ridiculous in front of him be damned. There was no way she'd survive another night with him in the same room. Not after last night. Not after everything. Pulling harder on his arm, she hissed violently in his ear, "We need two rooms"

"What?" Luke squinted at her, still half listening to the man behind the desk.

"I want my own room," Lorelai insisted through clenched teeth. She paused long enough to flash an angelic smile to the desk clerk, in an effort to appear at least close to normal in front of perfect strangers.

Luke swatted at Lorelai's hands, shooting a less-than-amused "Excuse us…" to the receptionist. Dragging Lorelai less than gently a few feet away, he practically snarled at her, "What? What is wrong with you?" he demanded roughly, "Two rooms is a waste."

"I need my own room," Lorelai declared, though her resolve was fading far faster than she'd have like.

She had to give Luke credit for trying to reason with her, but he rebuff of "Our ticket reservations were together, the airline is only covering one room," wasn't holding a candle to the absolute necessity that she have her own room, lest she develop a new-found sleep-walking habit and unconsciously end up acting on one of her illicit little fantasies.

"Well, tell them we're on a business trip and my big scary super-possessive husband back home won't let me room with anyone," she shot back as forcefully as she could manage.

"Lorelai, just…" Luke sighed impatiently. His gaze darted back to the confused-looking clerk. Turning back to Lorelai, he motioned for her to just shut up and not move. "Hang on…" With a sidelong glance back at her, he went back over to the counter.

Lorelai was one-hundred percent convinced she'd been successful in her attempts at coercion right up until the point that Luke re-approached her. "Look," he stated, "We're in 603…"

"What?" Lorelai shrieked, cutting him off with her protest. "But I…"

"I got _one_ room," Luke reiterated, not letting her finish her complaint. "You can do whatever," he added with a shrug, pointing towards the elevators, "but I'm going up there."

With a scowl, Lorelai glared at Luke through narrowed eyes. And cursing him in her mind, she defiantly flopped down on one of the lobby's cushy armchairs. Pointedly ignoring him, she tossed her hair over her shoulder and looked the other way in a silent tantrum not at all unlike the many she'd thrown over the years in the Gilmore house.

Unfortunately for her, Luke didn't seem to care one way or another whether she stayed in the lobby all night. After a moment or two of not getting a reaction from him, Lorelai jerked her head back around just in time to see him stepping on the elevator, taking every single one of her bags – purse included – with him.

Lorelai froze at the sight, her first instinct to jump up and run after him. Which, of course, would have been the smart thing to do. The logical thing. And then just deal with whatever followed in terms of having to either share the room or fight over getting a second one.

But no, Lorelai was determined to stand her ground, however 'terrible-twos-temper-tantrum it might have been. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, remaining firmly planted in the chair. He wanted to leave her alone in the lobby all night? Fine. Screw him…

**To be continued…**


	6. He Shoots, He Scores

_**So here it is, however long after the ficathon fics were supposed to be posted – the conclusion to 'Just Duck-y (Or, A Devil of a Time)'**_

_**Don't forget to check the end for the prompt so you can all see how this crazy, crazy story came about. Hopefully I did the prompt justice.**_

**_And, as always, thanks to everyone for reviews, and to _llano_ for the beta help._**

**Chapter 6: He shoots, he scores…**

A few hours later, Lorelai was still puttering around the lobby, flipping through any and all brochures she could find, sneaking as many of the complimentary hard candies from the bowls scattered around as she could.

Needless to say, her resolve was weakening. Candy would only stave off her hunger for so much longer, and the bar just off the lobby was also looking pretty tempting. A martini or four would probably really, really help make her feel better about the whole mess…

But Luke had taken her purse. She toyed momentarily with just running up a tab at the bar and charging it to – what room had Luke said? 603? But she wasn't sure how well that would go over if it was the airline covering the room.

She lasted precisely another twelve minutes before convincing herself that going up to collect her purse would not induce the coming of the four horsemen. It was only Luke. She could just go up there, ask for her purse, come right back down, have her martinis, and then get her own room far far away from him. Sure she could.

Another minute or two later, she found herself six floors up, facing the small bronze '603' on the door. Shaking her hair out a bit and smoothing her shirt, Lorelai did her best to portray an air of confidence.

Never mind that her hand trembled as she lifted it to knock.

Luke answered almost immediately, pulling the door open just wide enough to frame his body in the doorway. He said nothing, regarding her coolly.

Lorelai forced herself to take a deep breath. Lifting her nose haughtily in the air, she requested in cool, even tones, "Can I have my wallet please?"

Studying her for a moment, Luke eventually pushed the door open without a word, indicating with a slight nod of his head that she was free to enter if she wished.

Lorelai balked at his suggestion; there was no way she was giving in now. She needed her wallet, that was all. Then she was home free and could get her own room of her own accord. "You can just get it for me," she responded tersely, her feet still planted firmly in the hallway.

"Or you can come in and tell me what the hell is wrong with you," Luke challenged.

Lorelai pressed her lips together in a valiant show of restraint, restricting herself to, "I'm fine."

"So you're actually a closet Devils fan and are pissed they lost?" Luke casually brought one arm up to rest above his head on the doorframe of the bathroom, lifting an eyebrow in her direction as she did.

Luke's rather blasé, yet taunting, demeanor was not lost on Lorelai. Once again, she found herself seething over his utter non-reaction to the fact that he was the one to kiss her. He was the one making her even crazier than she would have otherwise been. "I'm fine," she declared through her clenched teeth. "I just want my purse."

The single patronizing "Lorelai…" that followed was all it took for her to snap. It was the last straw, and she lost it.

"What's wrong with _me_?" she shrieked. "What about _you_?" she cried, giving Luke a forceful shove as punctuation.

"What _about_ me?" was Luke's retort as he disputed Lorelai's insinuations, "_I'm_ not the one acting insane all day."

Now, yes, Lorelai knew that there was no way Luke wouldn't have taken notice of her odd behavior over the course of the past twenty-four hours. But, in her mind, it was absolutely no excuse for him to be in complete and utter denial over the fact that he, too, had had a major bout of temporary insanity the night before. Which was certainly not an insignificant factor in her own insanity. "Well, you were last night!" she accused viciously in return, practically yelling right in his face.

One would have thought that such an outburst would have drawn Luke into a full-on shouting match, à la the great 'Go to Hell/Right Back Atcha' of '02. But no, Luke just stood there in front of Lorelai, looking ever so smug. He went so far as to make it quite clear that it was still her move when he folded his arms in front of his chest, lifting his eyebrows knowingly to goad her on.

And as much as she knew that manipulating her was exactly what he was doing, Lorelai fell for the bait, exploding "You kissed me! You kissed me Luke," she repeated, her voice fading into a tortured whimper, "Out of nowhere."

Luke, still appearing annoyingly triumphant, simply unfolded his arms nonchalantly, taunting her further.

Which put an end to the defeated tone Lorelai's voice had just taken on. The rage was back in full force. "You can't just do that!" She shouted, shoving him once again. Then came the rambling rant that, rather unsuccessfully, attempted to convey this gist of every thought that she'd had over the past day: "And Mrs. Whatshername at the game said – and, well, Nicole, hi – and the bathroom at the place – and you wonder why I'm acting…"

The rant ended there, for before Lorelai could even grasp what was happening, Luke was lunging at her in an encore of the night before. He spun her slightly, his hands gripping her upper arms roughly as he pressed his lips, warm and insistent, to hers.

Lorelai's eyes flew wide open as she pushed him away with a yelp, "Luke, stop!" Her heart in her throat, she leapt backwards from him, protesting in vain, "You can't…"

The protests were just that – in vain – because of Luke's initial deft maneuver when he'd left the door wide open. In her repeated shoving motions, Lorelai had inadvertently entered ever so slightly into the small foyer of the room. And when Luke had moved to kiss her, he'd expertly turned her just enough such that when she did recoil away from him, she was essentially backing herself into the room, backing herself into the proverbial and literal corner. Even as she continued her stream of protests, "Luke, don't…" she was cursing herself for allowing herself to end up in the room.

But Luke paid no mind to her plaintive pleas, and just closed the door behind him. Lorelai's heart pounded, adrenaline racing through her veins, as she took in his smug smirk and it registered in her mind that he was closing in on her once more. He was going to kiss her again, and she was powerless to stop him.

And she almost didn't want to.

Before she knew it, his hands had encircled her waist and she was being pulled into a searing kiss. She fought him on it as best she could, but Lorelai soon found the third time to be a charm, and reluctantly allowed herself to give in to Luke. Her arms wrapped around his neck of their own accord as she yielded to his lips, his hands…

"God, stop!" she cried, the sudden feel of Luke's tongue against hers all the wake up call that she needed to remind her that she absolutely could not be doing what she was letting herself do. The fact that she was finally willing to admit to herself that she really _did_ want it mattered not at all. With another forceful "Stop!" as she recognized that Luke was reaching for her yet again, she clambered up and over the bed – the _only _bed, she realized absently. He'd gotten them a room with only one bed? – to get away from him.

But Luke was nothing if not persistent, and simply strolled to meet her on the other side of the bed. She jumped back up across the bed, seeing a chance to make a break for the door and save the last shred of sanity and dignity she had left. Unfortunately, halfway through her strategic move, Luke grabbed her hand, throwing her off balance and sending her tumbling down on the comforter.

Lorelai froze on the bed as Luke, still clutching her hand in his, eased himself down to sit next to her. Gone was the determined bravado from only seconds before; he simply sat silently, staring at her with the woefully apologetic expression of a lost puppy.

It just made her heart break a little and want him all the more. "Luke…" Lorelai whispered softly, absolutely torn. "Don't," she pleaded, not knowing how much longer her resolve would hold, "We can't, you're with…" Her protest faded out as Luke dropped her hand, his gaze shifting down to the bed spread.

After a moment, he looked back up at her, solemn and even-toned. "Is she the only thing stopping you?"

"What?" Lorelai choked out, not liking where she thought a question like that might lead.

"This. Here," Luke repeated in a stilted clarification. "Is Nicole all that's stopping you?"

"No, Luke," Lorelai spat out immediately, more an admonition than an answer to his question. She'd gotten in far too much trouble whenever she'd come anywhere near Christopher and Sherry's relationship the year before; she refused, no matter how much the end situation might appear to favor her, no matter how much she might think she wants the outcome, to let herself get in the middle of another couple's issues. She would not let Luke blow his thing with Nicole for… for whatever it was he was proposing to do with her. "Don't put me in the middle of this," she warned harshly, inching away from him.

With a befuddled expression, Luke looked at her curiously, "Middle of what?"

Lorelai shook her head vehemently. "You can't put me in that position," she lectured. "I have nothing to do with you and her. I am not gonna be the woman who…"

And then Luke cut her off with the absolute last thing she expected to hear, "I'm not with Nicole anymore."

Silence hung in the air.

"What?" Lorelai finally breathed, wondering if she could have possibly heard correctly, her mind already racing over what that could mean.

"I ended things with Nicole," Luke repeated slowly.

Lorelai didn't want to let herself believe that there was actually nothing standing in the way with Luke. It was too easy. Too good to be true was a cliché for a reason. "But…" she stammered.

"I told you," Luke interrupted. "When you stayed the night of the fire, that you were a…" He paused, obviously searching for the correct word. "…thing…" he finished awkwardly, "with us. That she didn't like the idea of you being around."

She heard the words, but Lorelai couldn't, for the life of her, figure out how on earth her crashing at Luke's the night her Inn burned down should have had anything to do with the dissolution of his relationship with Nicole. Nicole never would have even known she was there, a fact she was quick to point out to Luke, "But she never…"

"Jess told her you stayed," Luke cut her off, anticipating her dispute. "She wasn't exactly thrilled. And when we went skiing," he continued, "and stayed at the Inn, she thought things were… off."

Lorelai eyed him questioningly. _Off?_ And that was somehow her fault?

"When you came in," Luke elaborated. "Less thrilled," he said with a sarcastic groan. "Yeah, we still went skiing, it was fine." His hand gestures became more and more animated as his frustration over the memory grew. "But then she brings up a bigger trip. She wants to get away from Connecticut completely, and you, I think," he added, "go on a cruise or something, to Vancouver or Alaska." He trailed off with a sigh, regarding Lorelai with a pointed glare. "And all I can think is what the hell would I be doing with her on a cruise?"

"Cruising?" Lorelai quipped lamely, her voice shaky under the weight of his implications.

"Well, I don't want to go on a cruise," Luke declared, "I didn't want to be cruising with her. Not with her," he affirmed. "Not considering… you know, everything."

_Everything_… Did that mean what she thought it did, Lorelai wondered, not daring to believe that it did.

Taking a deep breath, Luke leveled with her. "She was justified in not wanting you around me," he admitted sheepishly.

It totally meant what she thought it did. "Luke…" His name fell from her lips in a rush of air. All that torture, all the squeamishness and headaches and insanity over the fact that he was still with Nicole – it had all been unnecessary. Even as overwhelmed as she was at that moment, Lorelai knew that she still would have flipped out over that random woman's insinuations, not to mention Luke's kisses, but still… It could have saved them both a fair bit of grief if she'd only had to grapple with her own newfound feelings and not the issue of Nicole as well. "Why didn't you tell me?" she asked softly, gently laying her hand on his shoulder.

Luke angled away from her touch, offering only a knowing glare. "Would you have come?" he inquired frankly, "Here? Like this?"

Lorelai's mouth opened as she instinctively moved to defend herself. But she just didn't have the words. _Would_ she have come? _Would_ she have trekked all the way across the country to stay in the same room as Luke had she known that he was single again? Or would that minor, but oh-so-crucial tweak to her understanding of his relationship status put him and the trip squarely in the 'situation Lorelai is definitely not comfortable with' category? Her subconscious knowing that it would be treading on dangerous ground simply not allowing for such a trip? Hell, would she have barged in on him the night of the fire if he hadn't been securely wrapped up in his relationship with Nicole?

Would she have come, indeed…

Probably not, Lorelai realized with dismay, her shoulders slumping. Maybe she herself hadn't known of the feelings lurking just beneath the surface, but her subconscious would have known enough to cause her to be a big, fat, cowardly chicken. Maybe that's how it had always been with Luke, and she was only now coming to grips with the many, many missed opportunities there might have been over the years. And though she didn't necessarily have him even now, the thought that, had she known about the break-up ahead of time, her ridiculous avoidance tactics probably would have caused her to miss this chance as well. The thought saddened her for some reason, and she wondered absent-mindedly what had been wrong with her for so long.

She was finally drawn out of her stupor by what sounded oddly like an apology coming from Luke. "I didn't know what to do," he explained, stumbling awkwardly over the words. "This thing. Us, ending it with her." He sighed, running a hand through his hair as his gaze darted nervously about the room. "I don't know how to go about this, I'm not good at it. The trip, and yesterday… It just happened," he shrugged, focusing once again on Lorelai, "I just went with it."

Lorelai stared at him blankly, still trying to digest that fact that, apparently, not only had Luke been thinking of her… as something… even when he was with Nicole, but that he'd also called off that relationship and jumped at the chance to take this stupid hockey trip for her, even when he hadn't had a clue as to how she might have felt about him. It was a lot to take in, especially given the fact that she hadn't even necessarily completely sorted out what it was that she was feeling for him.

But apparently taking her silence and hesitation as a signal that, despite Nicole no longer being an issue, Lorelai wasn't on the same page as him, the hope slowly faded from Luke's face. She could see his jaw tightening as he pushed himself up off the bed, muttering, "I can get another room."

Seized with dread, Lorelai knew she had to act quickly. Two seconds ago, she may not have known exactly what she wanted, but that trepidation she felt as Luke stood to leave told her all she needed to know. It was now or never. Now or never, now or never. Pulling herself to her knees and stretching across the bed, she managed to catch Luke's wrist. "No," she whispered, clutching his hand in both of hers.

It was Luke's turn to freeze; he stiffened in front of her, a stunned expression washing over his face. His only movement was to unsteadily sit back down as he stammered a single questioning "You…?"

"Just go with it," she directed softly, the confidence she felt betrayed by a slight waver in her voice as she inched along on her knees to get closer to him. Reaching him, she dropped his hand, instead tenderly cradling his face. "Just go with it," she repeated, leaning into him, "Again."

And unlike the rough, rushed manner that had typified their first three kisses, this, the fourth, and the first initiated by Lorelai, was sweet, and soft, and sensual, and everything the others hadn't been as both Luke and Lorelai tried to convey without words just what the new development in their relationship meant to them.

Finally Lorelai pulled away breathlessly, and looked Luke directly in the eyes. "I lied that night," she panted, her breathing ragged. "You kissed me. With the alarm clocks."

If Luke had any recollection of the conversation to which she was referring, he made no such indication. Instead he tangled his fingers in her hair, and moved his lips to her neck.

But Lorelai pushed him away; though she couldn't put her finger on why, she felt the urgent need to come clean about her abrupt end to their conversation that night. "My dream," she admitted, "It did go further. You kissed me."

Luke still said nothing, rather a hint of a recognition flashed over his face as he grinned and pulled her in to him again. Hands wandering and tongues dancing, the two of them moved in unspoken synchronization as Lorelai shifted her weight off her knees, leaning back and uncurling on the bed as Luke lay beside her, propped up on one elbow.

When they parted again, Luke, stroking her hair as it fanned out on the pillow, showed on last bit of hesitation, cautiously asking, "So this is…"

"Good," Lorelai finished, confirming, to both herself and Luke with a feeble giggle and a watery smile, that she most definitely wanted this. Luke reciprocated with a smile of his own as he leaned in for another kiss.

When he gently – finally – slipped off her jacket, her shirt, her bra, her pants, Lorelai sucked in a sharp breath at every delicate touch… The skin-to-skin – hands-to-skin, lips-to-skin, _tongue_-to-skin – contact was so much more, so much better than she ever could have imagined in her lusty fantasies of the arena bathroom. And with Luke finally sinking tenderly into her, inch by agonizingly wonderful inch, and back out, and back in again, there was only one fleeting thought in Lorelai's mind before she gave herself over to the flood of sensations: Why, oh why, had they never done this before?

Once their breathing finally began to slow, and Luke had stilled within her, he hovered above her with his forehead pressed to hers. Lorelai, regaining coherence and finally beginning to sort out what the last hour had brought, found herself utterly overwhelmed. Utterly and completely.

He knew her. He _knew _her. In every way possible that so many others she'd been with hadn't.

The teasing torture as she writhed beneath him, his fingers coaxing her oh-so close, only to have him pull his hand away over and over? That was him and his daily threats of withholding coffee. His ever-present grumbling about her poor eating habits was replaced by primal grunts of frustration when she'd slid her hand into his boxers to repay him. And the fevered nipping he'd done at her shoulders, surely leaving plenty of marks, once he'd finally tired of her teasing? Just another take on his ranting – an annoyed-Luke-explosion. Those tender, sweet kisses that made appearances more than once were the knowledge that, without fail, he'd always be there, whether it be to change a water bottle or fix a wayward railing, or to drive her to the hospital for her father or offer Mimi a reassuring donut truce, on the house.

He knew her.

And as her eyes had begun to flutter closed, the waves of pleasure threatening and already lapping at her toes, when he'd beseeched her to keep them open, trained on him as she came crashing down around him – it was merely another one of their 'looks,' those non-verbal conversations they'd always seemed to have over the – jeez, how long was it now? Almost seven? – _seven_ years they'd known each other.

Only now was Lorelai coming to realize the full meaning of those looks.

And of course, she had to smirk as Luke resituated himself behind her, he'd probably have something to say about the many coffee-gasmic moans he'd been subjected to over the years now that he'd been a witness to – and cause of – the real version.

He _knew_ her.

And she could only hope that he felt she knew him just as well. For, as she realized with an almost unnerving sense of calm and resolve, there was no way she could ever let herself be with someone again who _didn't_ know her like that. All of the sudden, such an idea was rendered practically incomprehensible; the Maxes and Alexes of the world, who, up until barely more than a week or so ago, had themselves consumed a fair bit of her brain space, no longer more than tiny blips exiting the edge of the radar screen. Even Christopher knew her only as some version of his idealistic sixteen-year-old fantasy. He didn't know _her_. Not like Luke. Not like this…

Lorelai was just barely beginning to contemplate the weighty implications of such thoughts when she felt the softest brush of lips on her shoulder, and a gravelly voice in her ear, "What?"

Not really knowing what she was thinking, never mind how to verbalize those thoughts, Lorelai paused, considering her words carefully before replying. "I am thinking…" she eventually drew out slowly before turning over to face Luke. "…that…" As she took a deep breath, her gaze fixated somewhere in the vicinity of Luke's shoulder rather than his eyes. "…if this is how hockey games end, then I, um…" She stumbled over the words, anxiousness and trepidation combining with the rapidly spreading bashful grin as she spit out the remainder of her reply. "…want to see if my dad can get us tickets for the next game too." Trying to stifle the involuntary, giddy giggles that accompanied her post-sex-with-Luke high, Lorelai finished hurriedly, a faint blush coloring her cheeks as her eyes darted shyly back and forth from Luke's face to anywhere _but_ Luke's face.

She did muster up the courage to look him in the eye just in time to catch the cautious hint of a smile breaking out on his face as his eyebrows arched up hopefully. "Yeah?" he asked, his voice cracking ever-so slightly.

Luke's demeanor and reaction, equally as uncertain and awkward as hers had been, would have made Lorelai's heart melt for him right then and there had she not already been completely smitten and melt-y from the moment he'd made his bumbling admission that the whole trip had actually been intended – however 'knee-jerk-reaction' the intent was – to be the beginning of something between them. She smiled, offering a muted confirmation of, "Mmm-hmm," as she leaned in to kiss him softly.

But far too soon for Lorelai's liking, Luke eased back away from her, breaking the kiss. "Uh," he stammered, "You know that'll be the last game before summer."

"Right," Lorelai acknowledged with a wary nod. "Well," she offered hesitantly, unsure if she wanted to know what sort of repercussions her words would have on where they would go from here, "and Rory and I leave soon anyway."

Luke nodded gravely, taking in Lorelai's statement.

The fear that their relationship, as it were, was somehow slipping away before they even really had it gripped Lorelai. That Luke was resigning himself to this being it. "Well, there's more games at some point, right?" she reasoned anxiously. Her voice practically jumped an octave as she rambled on with the hockey metaphor, trying to give Luke any excuse to not back out just yet. "Next winter? We could…"

She was cut off by Luke pressing his thumb gently to her lips. "Lorelai," he said, demanding her focus. "We can go to more hockey games. I will buy you season tickets if you really want them. Devils, Bruins, both New Yorks, even the AHL team in Hartford if that's what you want," he offered with a teasing smile, "You can go to a game every day if you want, I'm sure."

The mini-panic attack that had surfaced in response to the presumption that Luke was pulling away from her was quickly replaced by a mini-panic attack and a stricken expression at the thought that Luke had somehow misinterpreted and believed that she actually wanted to go to all those hockey games – she didn't.

Thankfully, Lorelai hadn't been wrong in her realization that Luke _knew_ her; he quickly assuaged her hockey-centric fears with an addendum to his offer: "But I know you don't."

"I really don't," Lorelai admitted, breathing a sigh of relief. "I have zero clue as to what happened in that game," she chuckled, dragging the tip of her finger over his chest aimlessly. "Or," she added softly, once again dropping her head bashfully, "with us."

She could feel Luke's sharp intake of air beneath her hand as he began his reply, "You…" But he obviously didn't know how to define their new 'us' either; after only the one word, his voice faded away into the silence of the room.

"I want it, Luke," Lorelai blurted out, knowing that honesty would be the only way to rid her stomach of the nervous flutterings that had taken hold. "This," she clarified resolutely her eyes wide with sincerity as she met his gaze once more. "I really do."

"This being…" Luke drew out hesitantly, searching for further clarification of Lorelai's vague semantics.

Which did nothing to alleviate the butterfly action in her stomach. It was as if he was _trying_ to mess with her head and torture her. "This being not just this?" she ventured timidly at first, then rushing immediately to elaborate, "More than this? I mean, we're…"

It wasn't Luke's thumb that silenced her this time, but rather his lips. Not unlike their first kiss back at the game, he caught her off guard, leaning into her insistently. But unlike that very first kiss, Lorelai knew immediately what this one meant. There were essentially two possibilities given their situation, and as is turned out, she _did_ know him. She knew him enough to know that his hands brushing ever-so-gently up her arms, his tongue playfully tangling with hers… This was no 'Thanks for a good time, it was great while it lasted, but let's call it a day, stop by the diner like always for coffee'-kiss.

He wanted it too. This was Luke saying he was 'all in.'

And Lorelai couldn't have been happier. Smiling into the kiss, she giggled, pulling away to tease, "I take it you concur?"

Luke smiled in return, reaching over and delicately smoothing Lorelai's hair along the side of her face. "You bet," he assured her, thought his next action betrayed his solemn tone. Rolling away from her and running his hands through his own hair as he stretched out beside her, exclaiming in mock exasperation, "But come on! No hockey? You're not even going to ask about game 7?"

Lorelai gasped, her jaw dropping in feigned shock. "I'm just a way for you to get more stupid tickets from my dad, aren't I," she accused jokingly. "Dirty!" Luke just rolled his eyes, eliciting a smirk from Lorelai. "I suppose I could make an exception," she laughed. "Besides," she added, flashing him a devilish grin as she crawled over to him, "I think this will make for a pretty sad relationship if we don't keep up with some of the hockeying."

Brow furrowed, Luke sputtered a mildly confused, "But you just…" His words trailed off as Lorelai wiggled her eyebrows mischievously before lowering her lips to within millimeters of his.

"Tonsil hockey, silly."

**The End **

**Written for**: dayzy27

**Prompt**: Dana Scully: _"Well, it seems to me that the best relationships – the ones that last – are frequently the ones that are rooted in friendship. You know, one day you look at the person and you see something more than you did the night before. Like a switch has been flicked somewhere. And the person who was just a friend is... suddenly the only person you can ever imagine yourself with_." (From 'X-Files,' Episode 6-07, "The Rain King")

**Could have**: Lorelai waking up on the wrong side of the bed (i.e. grumpy/irritable – but it can be taken literally too).

**Shouldn't have**: Anything set east of the Mississippi River. So no Stars Hollow, Hartford, East Coast...


End file.
